


Snowdragon Tales

by Texan_Red_Rose



Category: RWBY
Genre: F/F, One Shot Collection, Prompt Fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-18
Updated: 2018-12-22
Packaged: 2019-02-16 08:35:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 29
Words: 111,971
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13050384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Texan_Red_Rose/pseuds/Texan_Red_Rose
Summary: A collection of one shots, many of which from Elderburn Week 2017. See individual chapters for specifics.





	1. Holding Hands

**Author's Note:**

> Unless otherwise noted, one shots occur in a generic semi-canon future AU, but may or may not exist in the same AU, if that makes any sense. Enjoy the nonsense for what it is. Some may be continued, because that's just how I roll, I guess.

The early morning light streamed in through the window, falling gently across the room until it reached the foot of the bed. Winter was aware of the rising sun but her gaze remained unfocused on the far wall as she listened to her wife’s breathing behind her. Yang’s left arm was wrapped around her waist even as the blonde nuzzled into her back, apparently objecting to the growing light filling the room.

They had the weekend free and no plans to fill it with anything other than being with each other, the past six months having been a near sprint from one goal to the next. Yang’s responsibilities at Beacon had kept her busy, as she’d covered the classes Blake usually taught while the Faunus had to return to Menagerie to settle some tribal matters, and Winter had her own work load increased as a new incursion of Grimm were spotted in the Vale wilderness near Vacuo’s border. Organizing a joint response and getting enough licensed Hunters, military personnel, and Beacon upperclassmen to execute the plan had taken weeks, fighting through it almost twice as long, and Yang had covered even  _more_  classes during that time so Ruby could assist with the response. The blonde had wanted to go herself but they’d agreed that she would worry a bit too much about the students and interfere with their training; that was the same reason she stayed within Beacon’s walls while Ruby oversaw the yearly initiation.

And it brought up a consideration that had sat in the back of her mind since then. Winter hadn’t put it into words, yet, but this weekend seemed as good a time as any. If she didn’t, it would just sit there until she became fixated on it to the exclusion of all else. Honestly, it had already taken up a significant amount of time just from the little, fleeting thoughts over the past few months, and she’d been awake for at least two hours turning it over in her mind already.

Winter ran her hand along her wife’s, rubbing lightly from her elbow down to her wrist a few times before wrapping her fingers around Yang’s hand.

Maybe she’d waited long enough.

Yang muttered and grumbled, hiding further from the growing light in the room. “Five more minutes.”

“You’re usually such a morning person,” she said lightly, a smile coming to her lips as she felt lips press against the nape of her neck after her wife had nosed aside her hair.

“I’ve been in academic hell for six months and I’m now in bed  _with my_   _wife.”_ The words sounded somewhat thick from sleep and the woman didn’t seem keen on correcting that. “I’m allowed to tell the morning ‘fuck you’ every once in a while.”

Winter chuckled, rolling over and ignoring the slight protestations so she could see her wife’s face, pressing a kiss between furrowed brows. “I wouldn’t be so violently opposed to the morning, were I you. It might come back to bite you.”

“Is that a promise?” A smile flashed across her lips as her eyes fluttered open, lilac eyes peering up into hers. Yang has sleep crusted at the corner of her eyes and lines of white along her chin from dried drool, evidence she’d slept  _hard_  through the night, which made Winter’s smile grow even wider. “You look beautiful in the morning, by the way.”

“You do, too,” she said, and meant every word, reaching up to run her hand through blonde strands and the cowlick atop her wife’s head. “I’m glad you got some sleep. You deserved it.”

“Hey, I wasn’t running around playing hero.” Disregarding their morning breath, Yang leaned in for a kiss and was met halfway. Nothing more than a brush of lips but enough to convey that blissful sort of early morning affection. “Now,  _I_  vote we don’t get up untilhunger forces us to leave the bed.”

Winter hummed, pretending to mull it over. “May I present an alternative?”

“C’mon, Snowdrift, what’s better than cuddles in bed?” Her wife shuffled closed, burying her face in the other woman’s chest, reaching out with both her arm and stump to try and dissuade any further suggestions.

“How about I go make breakfast while you start the bath?” She pressed a kiss against the blonde’s temple. “We can enjoy a soak together with full bellies. How’s that sound?”

A few beats of silence proceeded a deep inhale, Yang extricating herself and sitting up while stretching. “Okay, good plan, but  _I_  will make breakfast. I’m still convinced Schnees shouldn’t be left in kitchens unsupervised.”

“It was  _one_  time.”

“Snowdrift, you blew up the microwave.”

“ _One. Time.”  
_

Yang looked down at her, a smile on her lips as the rising sun caught in golden curls. “Do you  _really_  want to make breakfast?”

“Part of me wants to say yes,” she replied, pausing to stretch her arms above her head and sighing. “Yet, another part of me acknowledges you might have a  _very small_  point.”

“Oh?” With a smirk, the blonde twisted around, straddling her hips and looking down at her.

No matter what, she was pinned. “Perhaps it would be more prudent to wait until we’ve had more cooking lessons.”

“Let no one accuse you of failing to show vulnerability.” Leaning over her, Yang drew her into a kiss, longer than the last one and lightly nipping at her lips. “Any special requests?”

“The usual is fine.”

“A three egg omelette with eggs whites, cheese, and peppers, three strips of crispy bacon, and two sausage links? Or, hmmm, pancakes- are you in the mood for pancakes?”

She made a thoughtful noise in the back of her throat. “I’m afraid if you make pancakes, your friend will bust down our door.” 

“Nora’s only done that once.” Winter gave her wife a pointed look until she relented with a chuckle. “Alright, alright, no pancakes. I’ll go get everything started.” Yang rolled out of bed, forgoing her prosthetic but grabbing the hair tie off the night stand and holding it just over her shoulder. “And use the sandalwood bomb this time, yeah?”

Taking the hair tie, she lightly pulled the blonde strands into a messy ponytail. Yang could’ve accomplished the task herself, of course, but she took the time to give her wife a kiss just behind her ear, which she suspected was what she really wanted. “Candles, yes or no?”

“Yes, please!” Yang grinned at her from over her shoulder. “But make sure you hurry! Might be able to get some cooking lessons in if you do.”

“Well, I  _certainly_  wouldn’t want to miss that.” As they separate to attend to their tasks, Winter ran a hand through her own hair, pulling it up into a much less severe version of her usual bun, not minding the stray hairs tickling along the back of her neck. 

She stepped into the bathroom, stopping by the cupboard to collect up the appropriate scented bomb and two long, tapered candlesticks before turning her attention to the Jacuzzi tub she’d insisted they install upon purchasing the house tucked away in Vale. A nice, quiet neighborhood, close to the perimeter wall in the event of an emergency and mostly populated by retired Hunters or those very close to that mark. They were probably the youngest couple on the block which made for an…  _abundance_  of advice on marriage and the like from everyone they met. They handled it as best they could- by some miraculous stroke of luck, one of them managed to keep a cool head whenever the other started running hot- and the situations had never quite boiled over into concerning territory yet.

That ‘yet’  _did_  worry her, though, at times, mainly because her own defensiveness sometimes eclipsed her sense.

As she began to fiddle with the settings, setting the tub to fill slowly so they’d have more than enough time to eat and get back as the heaters and jets kicked on- or that would be the plan anyway. She had little doubt they’d get distracted along the way, but they at least had an idea of how to start their relaxing weekend off.

As she set the specially designed scented bomb into the rising water, she thought about how far they’d come in a mere five years. Before, her morning routine would’ve included changing into her uniform- even on so-called ‘off’ days- and setting about some half finished task from the day before, be it hers or someone else’s. Busywork to fill her time when the idea of being confronted with her own loneliness seemed too insurmountable. Now, though, she could hardly remember the last time she’d pulled on her gloves, having altered her duty uniform to wear the bracelets Yang had gotten her as an anniversary gift- cast in white and similar to her own Ember Celica, though with highly volatile Dust infused rounds. Although she could theoretically use them in hand-to-hand combat, they were more a last resort than an active part of her current fighting style.

Nowadays, it felt almost odd to put gloves on, outside strictly formal affairs. She held her rapier and dagger with her bare hands, relishing the way the metal of her wedding band pressed against the grip of her weapon, the pressure a constant reminder of why she fought and what awaited her upon returning. Add to that a closer relationship with her sister and… well, it certainly seemed like she had more going on now than she did as a fresh faced Specialist on her first assignment. 

Yet, it seemed manageable. Despite it being their first day off in a long while, she didn’t feel the same sort of exhaustion that had weighed her down in previous years. Although she’d made a show of her uncharacteristic reluctance to get out of bed that morning, even Yang seemed in higher spirits that she should be, considering their schedules.

So… maybe she  _should_  bring it up.

Replacing halfway melted candles with the ones she’d pulled from the cupboard, Winter set the used ones aside for the time being and went to the kitchen, the smell of sizzling bacon already heavy in the air. By the time she’d entered the room, she’d picked up on her wife’s soft humming, a habit she hadwhile cooking, her left hand moving almost faster than the eye could see to beat the eggs and flip the bacon, tongue peeking out the corner of her mouth as she focused on her task. 

Without hesitation, Winter walked up and stood behind the woman, placing her hands on Yang’s hips.

“Ah, there’s my helper!” Yang turned her head to kiss her cheek briefly. “Ready?”

“That depends; what does the risk assessment look like?”

“There’s cereal in the pantry if it goes south and a fire extinguisher by each exit.”

“Cheeky.” With a chuckle, she reached up, taking hold of the bowl filled with broken egg yolks, a separate bowl for the whites already set aside. That, at least, seemed like a task she could handle without a problem. She didn’t get very far, however, as Yang almost immediately moved the bacon off the skillet and onto a paper towel covered plate beside the stove to cool, leaving behind the hot grease. “Oh, we’re ready for the eggs?”

“You took your time getting the tub set up,” her wife replied, her voice devoid of chiding and instead carrying a tone of curiosity. “Everything workin’ alright?”

“Of course.” She paused, considered speaking her mind, and decided against it. Probably best to have the conversation once they were in the Jacuzzi. “So, now what?”

“Now, I teach you how to make an omelette.” Carefully, Yang set the tongs down out of reach and coaxed the woman into holding the bowl with her left hand, allowing the blonde to lay her slightly smaller one over hers and direct her. “Now, it’s all an easy, slow, and steady motion. It won’t be perfect but that’s fine; it just needs to  _taste_  good, right?”

They continued making breakfast, the bacon and sausage links still warm by the time Winter’s omelette finished cooking, everything transferred to plates for the two of them and sat at the dining table, side-by-side. The meal passed quietly, a few comments passed between them and more than a few compliments to the chef, though Yang tried to share the credit. Finally, the blonde set down her fork and leaned her elbow against the table.

“Alright, Snowdrift, what’s on your mind?”

“What makes you ask?” She mentally kicked herself; the evasion tactic, though an old habit, was also a pretty telling reaction. “Am I that obvious?”

“You’ve got your tells.” A flicker of a smile before blonde brows knit in concern. “Is it something you want to talk about?”

“I… suppose it wouldn’t hurt,” Winter said, setting down her own fork and reaching out, wrapping her fingers around Yang’s and brushing her thumb across her wife’s knuckles. “How do you think things have been going the past year or so? It’s been… busy, yes?”

“Well, yeah!” The blonde smiled, slipping her her fingers around the other woman’s. “I mean, between assignments and our first official year at Beacon, I think ‘busy’ is an understatement! But, ya know, things are settling down now. Blake’s back from Menagerie, the kids have acclimated to the new staff, and the Grimm population is so low, we might have to come up with  _something else_  for initiation next year!” One shoulder lifted in a little shrug. “It’s been crazy but I think it’s worked out pretty great.”

Now, she had an opening. “You’re enjoying your position, then? Teaching students suits you?”

“Better than I thought it would, actually!” Yang laughed, shaking her head. “I tell ya, kids these days- I can’t tell if they’re only half as crazy as we were, or double it.” She got that special gleam in her eye, gaze unfocused as she mentally went back to those reconstituted halls that obviously still seemed so new and so familiar. “The first years are a blast every time, and watching them go through? I’ll be honest, Snowdrift, I don’t know who’s gonna be more proud of those kids when they graduate: me or their parents!”

“Do you think of them as your own?” She kept a straight face, trying her best to appear politely interested instead of intensely invested in her wife’s answer.

“Not in a literal sense.” The blonde shrugged again. “I’m their teacher and mentor and, yeah, it  _feels_  like I’m playing Team Mom a few times during the week but… I love it.”

“What if it was less ‘playing Team Mom’ and more…  _actually_  Team Mom?”

Lilac eyes snapped to hers, blinking a few times as the words processed. “Actually… Team Mom… like… you mean… what? Exactly?”

Winter took a surreptitious breath. “What are your thoughts on having kids?”

Silence stretched between them after the words left her mouth. It wasn’t a bad sign- not yet, anyway- and she watched carefully as everything clicked into place. When they did, Yang shifted her grip and squeezed her hand a little tighter, scooting to the edge of her seat.

“You think… that’s something you want?” She shook her head slightly, as if wanting to reword her response. “I mean- like, ya know, I’ve  _thought_  about it, but I always thought it was one of those far off things, ‘cause I figured it would just- just be that sort of thing. But, if you’re talking about  _right now_ , I…” Yang bit her lip and glanced away. “I think I can handle that.”

Winter narrowed her eyes, suspicious at the reaction. “… you’re downplaying this.”

“Of  _course_  I’m downplaying this!” Yang released her hand for a moment to gesture with it, motioning at the table. “I’m awake, I’m fed, and here you are talking about having a kid? And we have  _nothing_  planned all weekend? Yeah, okay, I’m trying really hard to be calm about this!”  She grabbed the woman’s hand, bringing it up to her lips and pressing a kiss to the back, her wide smile reaching all the way to those shining lilac eyes. “I mean- if we’re being one hundred percent honest, I think we should wait and time it out, make sure the third trimester falls closer to the end of the year so we can spend those first few months together and not worry about classes and students and stuff. I mean, as much as we  _can_ , of course, because it’s not an exact science, but that’s half the fun, and we should both get check ups first- who would even carry? I mean, between us, it might be smarter if I do, just ‘cause you could be called by the military and I dunno what their policy is on pregnancy-”

“Yang?” She waited until lilac eyes focused on her fully, smiling just as brightly to show she didn’t mind the nigh nonstop thoughts flying from her mouth. “Slow down a little.”

“I’m excited!” The blonde laughed, positively squirming in her seat. “I mean…” Blood flushed her cheeks as she blushed. “I… okay, this sounds kinda dumb, but I always figured I’d start having kids early, right? Sometime in my twenties- I honestly kinda thought I’d just… forget to take my pill or something or see something that wasn’t there.” She squeezed Winter’s hand again, tears beginning to sting at her eyes. “I dunno, I imagined every scenario out there… except this one.”

“Perhaps that’s for the best.” She raised a brow, shrugging at her wife’s curious look. “No expectations to disappoint, correct?”

“Yeah, guess that’s true.” Yang fidgeted, squeezing her hand again. “What about you? I mean- I kinda feel like you might have some ideas of your own on the matter?”

“I have a few,” she said, lips curling into a smile. “Maybe we can discuss the matter in more… comfortable surroundings? Seeing as we’re mostly on the same page.”

A laugh rang out, bouncing around the room and making her heart beat all the quicker. “Aw, come on, Snowdrift, give me  _something_!”

“Alright.” She stood up, maintaining eye contact as she teasingly towered over her wife and leaned down, drawing her into a sweet, long, slow kiss and breaking it as she wrapped her unoccupied hand around the end of Yang’s stump, pressing a kiss to it and her wife’s hand before speaking. “I love you, Yang. I think we’re capable of becoming parents and that it’s time we at least start the conversation.” Unable to resist, she leaned forward and placed another kiss on the tip of Yang’s nose. “Though  _trying_  should probably wait until  _after_  we’ve talked about it.”

“We can talk about it in the tub, right?” Her wife stood up, pressing a kiss to her mouth and cheek to ease her back and wrapping her left arm around Winter’s waist. “I mean- not like I’m  _eager_ , or anything.”

“We have all weekend, and we can continue talking about it until we’ve come to all our decisions.” Another kiss. “But first? A nice soak.”

Yang’s hand found hers. “Then what are we waiting for?”

She laughed, following after her wife and relieved the conversation had gone over so well. Her life had changed so much in recent years, this much proved true. She wielded her weapons without gloves- saw no reason to keep herself that one little step removed from the world. She held onto her wife’s hand tightly- clung to her family, those she’d chosen and not the one she’d been born to, with all her might. And soon- perhaps sooner than she’d originally thought, given the glinting in those lilac eyes- she would hold in her arms their first child, a little hand to fit inside hers. Maybe it would be slim, like all the Schnees, or thicker with large knuckles like Yang’s, but it would belong to a little one that would become part of their lives, part of their family.

Some part of her could hardly wait.

But the majority was content to strip out of her pajamas alongside her wife and hit the setting on the Jacuzzi, the soothing jets and warm temperature setting the easy going mood for the conversation at hand.


	2. Served

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 3 of Elderburn Week, prompt: Accident. Restaurant AU... kinda.

Yang took a deep breath in and let it out slowly, trying to calm herself. The lunch rush brought with it a seemingly endless stream of customers and that proved true every single day she worked, yet today the demands of her job seemed to wear on her more than usual. Being a server at a high end restaurant in downtown Vale brought with it all sorts of upscale types, each with some sort of previous knowledge that either proved to be wrong entirely, greatly exaggerated, or simply misunderstood, yet she could only politely explain that so many times before it drove her over the deep end.

“Remember why you’re doing this. Rent is due in a week and you  _need_  the tip money,” she said to herself, reaching up to straight the long black tie she wore around her neck and adjusting the stifling collar of her crisp white shirt. As far as work uniformed went, it tended towards the plain side, with black slacks and matte shoes, but at least she’d gotten out of that dive bar on the south side of town. The pay here was better, even if the uniform kinda sucked, but the customers always seemed the same. Not as crude, not as dirty themselves, but really no better for it. “Just. Get through. This shift.”

“Psyching yourself up, Yang?” Emerald, one of the other servers, breezed past her on the way to the pick up station, a small smirk on her lips. “That table giving you problems, huh?”

“Bunch of yuppies who can’t tell a lager from a porter; if they weren’t so chatty, I’d be fine.” Rolling her eyes, the blonde followed her coworker to the station, grabbing one of the serving trays and loading it up with plates for another table. “I’ll be fine.”

“They’re really giving you problems over beer?” The other woman grabbed an appetizer but paused before taking it out. 

She shook her head. “Nah, they’re trying to ‘impress me’ with their ‘experienced taste’ because they’re a bunch of ‘beer connoisseurs’ apparently.”

“Okay, why does  _every_  group of twenty-somethings flirt with you?”  Her coworker chuckled, obviously taking a  _bit_  too much amusement from her misery. “They think just because you’re their age, they have a shot?”

“I’m willing to bet it’s because they have money and they think  _that’s_  impressive.” With a fully loaded tray, she set one edge on her shoulder and balanced it aloft while grabbing one of the fold out stands. “Whatever. Sometimes, it gets me a nice tip, so I’ll let ‘em have their fun.”

“So you’re  _not_  going to punch anyone today?”

“I make no promises,” she replied with a smirk before setting out, navigating her way through the dining area. Thankfully, the layout of the restaurant gave her more than enough room to maneuver between the tables, reaching a booth tucked away in her area and setting down the stand, putting the tray on top of it and handing out the plates with a smile. 

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the host bring over more customers to sit in the booth two down and mentally kicked herself; now she had a completely full section and those brats at the table were snapping their fingers for her again. She  _swore_ , if she ever met their mothers, she’d give ‘em a piece of her mind.

“Okay, everything look good?” She flashed a smile at the customers in the booth now positively salivating- in a very classy way, she admitted- over their food. “How about you cut into that steak for me, Sir, to make sure it’s cooked right.”

The man did as requested, popping the little piece he’d cut off into his mouth before giving her a nod. “It’s perfect.”

“Great!” Yang tucked the tray under one arm and grabbed the stand with her other hand. “I’ll be back to check on you in a bit.” Moving off, the blonde took a mental break while keeping her smile in place as she moved to her new booth. At a glance, she could tell the table would only be a little hassle. Two women- one right around her age and the other a little older- wearing expensive looking clothing that matched, white being the predominant color accented by either blue or black. They both had pure white hair and blue eyes, barely visible as they scanned their menus, and Yang guessed they were probably related somehow- sisters or cousins, probably. “Good afternoon, Ladies. May I suggest a glass of wine this afternoon?”

The older of the two- wearing a suit with glossy black boots, a tight almost military looking bun, and with sharper features than the other woman- looked up, blue eyes flicking over the server’s form before meeting her gaze. “And what suggestion would that be, I wonder?”

“Well, if you’re asking my honest opinion…” She glanced at the two of them, going with her gut as she always did. According to her customers, she had something of a knack for picking out the particular drink for the occasion. That’s why she suggested wine instead of the specialty beer they’d just imported from Atlas- not just because they certainly seemed like they hailed from or at least had strong family ties to the country across the sea of Vale but because, as a restaurant that specialized in Atlesian dishes, it was pretty much part of their gimmick. They seemed like the wine sort, and particular in that regard as well. “A bottle of Domaine Weinbache to split.” She thought on it. “We have their Riesling, which would pair rather nicely with our grilled citrus shrimp or the red snapper, now that I think on it.”

“Let me guess: that’s the most expensive sort you sell here, isn’t it?” The younger woman- an offset pony tail, thigh high boots, and a skirt showing off only a sliver of well toned thighs- scoffed, rolling her eyes. Only then did Yang notice the faded scare bisecting the left one.

“Actually, the Chevalier Montrachet we have is our most expensive, but that’s more for a special occasion or celebration.” The blonde set the stand down, leaning against the booth, and pulled out her pen and tab. “You two ladies seem more interested in a nice, pleasant lunch on this fine Vale day, and the Domaine Weinbache is a nice balance between your exceptional taste and the casual nature of the meal.”

Again, the younger of the two seemed unimpressed. “Are you always so quick to pour flattery over others?”

Yang’s mask slipped a little, the first thing that came to mind slipping out of her mouth before she could stop it. “Gee, with all your whining, I feel like I should just bring out the cheese.”

While one looked at her with absolute shock, the other laughed, lifting a hand to cover her mouth. 

“Why you-”

“Weiss.” The older woman recovered, though she still had a smile on her lips. “That  _was_  a rather rude comment. She’s only doing her job and I asked for her suggestion.”

Another roll of the eyes. “I suppose you’re right.”

“Of course I am,” she replied, turning towards Yang. “We’ll take a bottle of the Domaine Weinbache, please. And an order of breadsticks to start.”

Yang jotted the order down. “Alright, I’ll be back with that in a sec.” She tucked her pad and pen away, picking up the stand. “My name’s Yang, by the way. If you need anything, please let me know!”

Turning away, she went to input the order and replace the tray and stand, fingers hovering on the button for the shrimp she’d suggested. While it  _would_  be one of their best dishes to pair with the wine, she also got the distinct impression that the older woman would go for something with a bit more substance- perhaps one of their steaks- while her sister seemed more inclined towards a salad or perhaps chicken.

Sending the order off, Yang went over to the bar, gathering up two wine glasses, the chilled bottle from an ice box under the bar, and a corkscrew. Someone else had already brought them glasses of water, so she could deliver the wine and give them a few minutes to look over the menu while she attended to her problem table. She could already tell they were going to make some sort of snide comment about the fact that she hadn’t stopped by their table in a whopping five minutes- one would think they’d be more concerned about  _eating_  but she’d been wrong before- and braced herself, setting down the wine glasses and uncorking the bottle in practiced, smooth motions. Flipping the corkscrew around, she offered the newly revealed cork towards the women. 

The younger one appeared surprised, brows raising as she tilted her head slightly, while the other just smiled, accepting the corkscrew and smelling the aroma wafting off the cork.

“Sweet, but not enough to make me crave dessert yet. A little fruity, but there’s a subtle bite to it.” She nodded. “I do believe you’re correct in saying it would pair well with citrus.”

“Thank you, Ma’am.” Yang set about pouring the glasses, ignoring the louder snaps attempting to get her attention, instead leaving the bottle in a holder on the table while taking the corkscrew. “May I give you a few moments to look over the menu?”

“That sounds splendid, thank you.” 

The women turned their attention to their wine as the blonde turned around and went to the problem table, just a few feet away, and prayed her smile seemed at least  _somewhat_  sincere. “So, how are we doing? Anyone need a refill?”

“What I  _need_  is a halfway decent beer,” one of the boys said- they were probably around her age, so they weren’t  _children_  exactly, but they sure as hell acted like it- with a sneer curling his lips. “This almost tastes like piss water.”

“Sir, you requested a light blonde-”

“Well, then, bring me a  _dark_  beer,” he replied with a grimace. “Don’t you know  _anything_  about appealing to a refined taste?”

Most days, Yang could handle types like this. But today, she had a bit of a vengeful streak going, and no real  _reason_  not to continue it. “Well, Sir, we do have a Rauchbier from Atlas.” She’d noticed the glances every man at the table threw towards her newest customers and silently relished being able to read people so effectively. “I will warn you, though, it’s  _very_  dark and-”

“We’ll take a round.”

“Sir-”

“Are you deaf as well as dumb?” He glowered at her. “I  _said_  we’ll take a round! Now, chop chop!”

Through a tight smile, she offered a terse. “Yes, Sir.”

Oh she would  _love_  serving up this order.

As she made the rounds in her section, she made a mental note of what drinks would need refills and who would probably be asking for their check soon. She stopped by the pick up station to grab the few appetizers that were ready and delivering them to the appropriate tables, including the breadsticks for the two women in the booth. After she’d finished, she went back to the bar and grabbed four pint glasses with the brewery’s logo on the sides. The bartender- a monkey Faunus she considered a good friend- raised a brow as he saw what she was reaching for, a short chuckle leaving his lips.

“Uh… do they know what they ordered?” His bow tie sat around his neck, the top two buttons on his white shirt popped open and, while he was hands down one of the best bartenders she’d ever seen, he was eventually going to get written up and perhaps even fired for continuously disregarding the dress code. He even had the sleeves rolled up to his elbows.

Usually, filling the alcoholic orders would be his domain, but she wanted to do this one herself. “Nope.”

“Did you try warning them?”

“Yep.” She popped the ‘p’ and threw him a grin. “They’re  _super_  convinced they know more about beer than I do.”

Sun shook his head, his tail flicking behind him. “Alright. I’ll let Glynda know.”

“Good idea. These guys are going to cause a  _scene_  when they choke on this stuff.” Yang set the four beers on a serving tray and set out to deliver them to the table. As she walked, she passed Emerald, who did a double take at what she carried. Red eyes went wide but the other server started to smile even wider as she noted which table she was taking them to, doing her best to hide her amusement behind the customer service mask they all wore. When she arrived at the table, she passed out the beers. “Four Rauchbeir.”

The moment she’d handed the drinks out, the guy who’d spoken up before waved a dismissive hand her way. “That’ll be all for now.”

Digging deep into her reserves of patience for the moment, Yang nodded and went around to her other tables, correctly predicting that the one booth in the corner wanted their check and producing it from the apron tied around her waist. By the time she got back to the booth with the two women, both of them seemed to be eagerly awaiting something- and her arrival didn’t seem to be it.

“Tell me, did they order the Rauchbeir? Or was that your suggestion?” The older woman had more than a little amusement tugging at the corners of her lips.

“ _I_  suggested a porter, but they insisted they wanted the ‘darker taste’ of a lager.” The looks she received proved the women were miles ahead in their understanding of beers than anyone occupying the other table. “They weren’t satisfied with it and asked for something that would appeal to a ‘refined taste’, so I brought up the Rauchbeir.”

The women immediately started laughing, hiding their mirth behind their hands and throwing glances towards the table.

“We grew up near the Schlenkerla; we know  _exactly_  what’s coming,” the younger said, obviously reveling in the impending reaction. “You’re certainly not wrong- Rauchbeir appeals to ‘refined’ tastes.”

“Speaking of refined tastes- this time, without the sarcasm- what can I get you lovely ladies to eat?” Yang flashed a bright smile just as she heard the first choked gag off to her side, coming from the table.

The older one hummed, then waved a hand at the menu. "An eight ounce sirloin, medium rare, with a side of the citrus grilled shrimp, a baked potato, and… hmmm, sauerkraut in a bowl. However you need to ring that up.”

“And I’ll take a grilled chicken salad, hold the egg.” The younger one paused, then continued. “And a tomato soup, now that I think on it.”

The blonde lightly bit her lip as she scratched out the orders on her pad. Okay, she could generally read people pretty well, but she didn’t expect either of them to have appetites like that. To be honest… she kinda liked that.

Then she remembered she was  _at work_  with a very problematic table and now was no time to get distracted. “Did you want any onions or mushrooms on your steak?”

“No, thank you.”

A choke, a cough, and a muttered obscenity. 

“And what kind of dressing on your salad?”

“Balsamic vinaigrette, thank you.”

Someone sounding genuinely perplexed- of the four, one of them looked like the sort to actually enjoy that sort of beer, so she bet it was him looking at the others like they were overreacting.

“Excellent! I’ll go put those in right now.” Yang turned, heading to input the order, but found herself stopped by a hand grabbing her arm, and it took everything in her not to break it then and there. She only refrained by the  _barest_  margins.

“What the  _hell_  is this stuff?” He shoved the beer towards her, a little bit sloshing out and forcing the woman to quickly shuffle to the side to avoid the dark liquid staining her shirt.

“It’s Rauchbeir,” she said, her tone level, which was just about the best she could hope for all things considered. “You know, smoked beer?”

“S-  _smoked beer_?” The brat’s expression screwed up. “ _How_  was I supposed to know  _that_?”

“Because it’s a literal translation,” the younger woman from the booth said, her brows drawn together and a frown on her lips. “Rauchbeir means ‘smokedbeer’ and it’s brewed in the Schlenkerla Smokemalt. It’s an Atlesian legend and one of the best of its kind.”

“The thick, smoked ham taste is certainly a unique flavor, almost like thick cut bacon sprinkled with brown sugar, and it’s renowned the world over for its distinctive taste.” The older woman swirled her wine a moment before setting the glass down. “Just seeing it again has made me a little homesick, to be frank. It’s a very nice way to start a morning, or even an afternoon.”

“Indeed. Perhaps a pint a piece?”

“An excellent suggestion, Sister.” Blue eyes sought hers out, no request voiced but understood all the same.

“Of course, Ladies. I’ll be back with those in a moment,” Yang said, her gaze sliding from what was quickly becoming her favorite table to the man still holding her arm. “If you’ll excuse me, Sir.”

For a moment, it looked like he was about to give her a bit more of his mind, but the subtle flexing of her arm discouraged him. He was built himself- a few inches taller with broad shoulders and a moderate amount of muscle mass, but the blonde’s uniform concealed her own figure pretty well. A lot of people saw her chest and assumed that’s where the majority of her bulk came from, but now that he took the time to look, it occurred to the customer that his grip didn’t completely encompass her bicep, fingers and thumb nowhere near touching despite the large size of his hand.

He let her go with notable reluctance and she quickly left the dining area, ducking back into the kitchens to silently scream, glaring at the tile wall fiercely while reciting every reason she had for  _not_  marching out there and decking that dude in the face.

“Rent is due next week and Ruby has that job interview on Thursday. She lands that gig, we’re good. Just… just gotta get through this.”

“Yang.” Trying not to sigh in defeat, the blonde turned to see the manager standing behind her, a sharp gaze made all the more pointed by the glasses sitting low on her nose. “Do I need to take over that table?”

“No, Ma’am.” Forcing a smile, she spread her hands. “I’m fine. I can handle them.”

Glynda narrowed her gaze. “I’m going to stop by and speak with them regardless. I trust you, Yang, but I’m not about to have you start a fight in the dining room again; we’ve already been lenient in that regard.”

She wanted to snap out that decking someone for grabbing her ass as she walked by shouldn’t be held against her but even  _she_  could admit chucking the guy through a window after the initial punch pushed her reaction from ‘understandable’ to ‘over the line’. “I’m sure, Ma’am.”

“Alright.” She nodded, then looked around. “After that table leaves, take your break and calm down. They’ve already ordered their food, right?”

“No.” She crossed her arms over her chest and groaned. “They haven’t even picked up the menus. I think they’re just day drinking.”

With a long suffering sigh, the manager nodded. “Make sure you’re ringing up their beers. If they manage to finish one, I’ll cut them off after the second.”

Nodding, Yang took another minute to compose herself and then returned to work, inputting the sisters’ orders, grabbing her other tables’ food, and returning to the dining area to pass them out with a forced smile. She got a few comments, low muttered reprimands that a customer would make a scene with such a nice server, but she couldn’t be quite honest with her appreciation for their support. Still, she managed to return to the pickup station with an empty tray and swing by the bar to grab two more Rauchbeirs without incident. When she dropped them off with the Atlesian sisters, who set about taking a deep pull each without so much as a wince.

Once again, the server found herself impressed. She herself preferred lagers and ales- blondes, usually, with crisp and refreshing tastes, though she’d been known to enjoy a wheat beer on occasion. The thick, almost cloying taste of liquid bacon sliding down her throat certainly qualified as a ‘special occasion’ sort of thing, and it wasn’t  _bad_  but she definitely wouldn’t be able to take the deep pulls the sisters did. Obviously, though, the younger sister didn’t care for the beer as much, a flash of something appearing in her expression as she set the mug down.

“Ah, right.  _That_  is why I don’t drink this.”

“It’s not that bad.” Her elder chuckled, taking another long pull. “And all the sweeter for the occasion.”

Blue eyes darted towards the other table and while the blonde couldn’t look without drawing attention, she suspected the boys were glowering at how easily the two women were enjoying the beer while they had only managed a few sips since ordering it.

“You do have a point.”

With a soft laugh, Yang shook her head. “I’ll be back with your orders shortly.”

She settled a few checks, brought back change, did another round of refills and appetizers, and then the women’s orders were ready. Loading them up, she hardly minded the hot temperatures on the bowl of tomato soup and consciously ignored the slight rumble in her stomach as her own hunger started to grow. Maybe taking a break after the problem children left would be a good idea.

Grabbing a stand and heading out, Yang carefully maneuvered her way through the dining area, leading with the stand as she approached the booth. However, a few steps from her destination, she felt the  _whoosh_  behind her a moment before the tray left her hand, the outside edge hit with enough force to sent the whole thing toppling  _towards_  her. For that most part, it just startled her, but the moment the tomato soup spilled from its bowl and hit the bare skin of her neck, she let out a pained cry, hand flying up to try and remove the hot liquid and sooth the injury as best she could. Thankfully, the high collar prevented it from hitting mostly flesh, but it seeped through her shirt easily, and the general chaos caused by plates, the tray, and the stand hitting the ground brought all eyes to her as she rounded on whoever caused the tray to fall. Unsurprisingly, she came face-to-face with the same man who’d grabbed her, a sick smile playing on his lips.

“You son of a-”

“Watch your tongue,” he said, the smugness in his tone enough to choke a bear. “Do you have  _any_  idea who you’re talking to?”

Logic and responsibility flew from her mind then, fury rising up in her and pulling her right fist back. In the next second, she would’ve knocked that holier-than-thou mentality clear from his head, along with a few other things, but someone grabbed her wrist and stopped her. A sharp rebuke lay on her tongue but it never left, someone else beating her to it.

“The better question, Mr. Winchester, is do  _you_  have any idea whose food you just ruined?”

Yang wasn’t surprised when she looked behind her and saw the older woman standing there, sharp features brought into even more definition thanks to the severe frown and furrow to her brows.

The Winchester guy scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest. “Please. Do you think you can intimidate me?”

“I’ll take that as a ‘no’ then.” Reaching into the best pocket of her suit, the woman produced a business card, offering it to the man while shifting her grip to the server’s bicep and gently pulling her back, out of punching distance. “Perhaps this will enlighten you.”

He snatched the card from her and glanced at it, then looked at it much harder, blinking several times. Then, he went pale. “Winter Schnee…”

Yang cringed. Sure, as a high end restaurant, they got their share of celebrities or those near enough the status, and anyone connected to the Schnee name automatically qualified as the former. They had some sort of genius relative in almost every field that existed and the family brand- the Schnee Development Company- made them easily known to just about every person in Remnant. Of course, she probably should’ve recognized the woman herself and her sister, considering Ruby was studying the corporation in preparation for that interview she had coming up, but she hadn’t exactly provided Yang with any headshots of the current line of Schnees.

“Judging by your reaction, I’ll assume I’m known to you.” Winter scanned the three other men- all cowering in their seats- before focusing on the instigator. “Allow me to outline this in a very simple manner. You will pay off both of our tabs in full plus a fifty percent gratuity in cash and apologize to this young woman. Then you, and all your cronies, will leave this establishment quietly and not return until you’ve learned basic etiquette and, if you’re lucky, nothing more will come of this incident.” She paused. “And add twenty dollars to that amount; my sister and I were considering dessert. Is that amenable? Or would you prefer we handle this in court?”

“B-b-but I didn’t-”

“Oh, I’m aware you didn’t do anything to me, specifically, except delay the meal for my sister and I.” Her voice turned a bit harsher. “However, I will personally pay for  _her_  lawyers when she sues you for personal injury and loss of pay while she recovers. Which, you’ll probably not be able to defend yourself adequately after I call your father and personally inform him of the situation, and that recent liquidation of your trust fund might come in handy to cover you to some extent, but if Daddy Dearest tells your retained law firm to not handle the case as I have them represent  _her_  instead... things might truly not work out very well for you. Have I made myself clear?”

“Yes, Miss Schnee,” he replied, shoulders hunched as he ducked his head and looked away. “I’ll settle up the tabs now.”

“Good. I’m sure the manager will see to it that the amounts are accurate.” Winter made a motion with her unoccupied hand. “Now, shoo.”

As the man and his cohorts vacated the area at a quick walk bordering on a run, their metaphorical tails tucked between their legs, Yang took a deep breath and released it slowly. On the upside, she probably still had her job… but she  _really_  wished she could’ve punched him at  _least_  once. Still, she was grateful for the woman’s intervention and tried turning towards her.

Except, the hand on her bicep actually had a pretty good hold, the other woman looking at her in mild curiosity. Yang raised a brow, unsure what had brought the woman to a standstill but took a guess and flexed her bicep, unsurprised when the woman automatically squeezed and felt the firmness of her arm muscles.

Winter seemed to realize what she’d done the same moment the server smirked, releasing her and clearing her throat while producing a napkin. “My apologies for stepping in as I did but I truly detest when people are rude to their wait staff.”

“Hey, you probably just saved my job, so no worries, Miss Schnee,” she said, holding her hands up to try and ward off the woman’s attempt to clean her up. Honestly, the shirt was a loss at this point and she probably didn’t get burned by the soup, just suitably startled by the hot liquid. Plus, there were more than enough napkins in the back for her to clean the food off herself.

“Please, call me Winter.” The woman offered with a smile. “’Miss Schnee’ is only for those who need to beg my mercy.”

A flirtatious line popped into her head but,  _somehow,_ she managed to keep it there for once, instead laughing to cover the slight blush that was creeping into her cheeks. “Well, thanks, Winter. I guess I should’ve expected him to pull something like that, and I’ll get on restarting your order right away.”

“I’m sure someone else can do that-”

“I will see to it personally,” Glynda said, stepping in and putting a hand on Yang’s shoulder. “Go take a break, clean yourself up, and change your shirt. You’ve earned it, Yang.”

“Alright, boss.” She smiled and started towards the back, reaching up to slip out the knot out of her tie. She did have a spare shirt in the back, in a little break area. Along the way, she got sympathetic pats from Emerald and a few of the cooks, as well as a wide eyed look of fear from their newest server.

By the time she’d reached the break area, she’d already popped open the first two buttons and felt more than a little relieved she wore an undershirt today- nothing more than a thin tank top, but decent enough to get to the bathroom and tuck her shirt in properly- before stripping off the ruined one and balling it up. The blonde truly doubted it could be saved, but she’d at least try, grimacing at the sticky combination of balsamic vinaigrette and tomato soup now soaked into the material. She quickly ducked over to wash her hands off before grabbing the clean shirt and heading towards the bathroom by the host stand.

She shouldered the door open and stopped short, surprised to find Winter washing her hands. It took a moment before she realized she was being a little silly- like, why was she surprised? Maybe nervous was the better word, since she was standing there in a tank top, but whatever- and Yang shook her head, stepping up to see herself in the mirror. The other woman turned and moved over slightly, to be courteous, but did a double take upon noticing who had just stepped up beside her.

For a moment, Yang fussed with her hair, setting the fresh shirt on the counter, because she was watching Winter’s reaction in the mirror. She seemed to be… staring. Maybe that was wishful thinking? After all, she’s just a server at a restaurant and Winter was… well, somehow connected to a business that probably spent her life earnings in a day on toilet paper.

But… it  _really_  looked like the woman was checking her out, or perhaps just very transfixed by the definition in her arms.

“I’m sorry that guy ruined your lunch,” she said, grabbing her shirt and beginning to pull it on.

“I’m not,” Winter replied, her voice calm and even, though a peek proved that she suspected her attention hadn’t gone unnoticed. “Weiss and I have been meaning to spend more time together. The extra time to bond is appreciated.”

With a chuckle, Yang started buttoning the shirt. “Well, if you ever come here again, you can ask for me to be your server. I’ll be sure to take my time.”

“I suspect you would.” She almost shivered at the way the woman’s voice sounded slightly deeper when she said that, biting her lip slightly. “I may take you up on that. Lunch here every Tuesday and Thursday would be a nice step in the right direction.”

“I look forward to seeing you here, Winter.” She tucked the shirt into her pants while the other woman dried her hands, just getting her buckle set before Winter turned. Yang quickly reached out and grabbed the door, opening it with a wide smile. “For you, M’lady.”

“You’re quite fortunate I find such cheekiness endearing.” The woman brushed past her, throwing a little smirk down at her. “Do enjoy the rest of your break, Yang. I was being serious about ordering dessert.”

After she’d walked away, the server allowed the door to close and passed a hand over her face, highly aware of the blush beginning to burn in her cheeks. Maybe it was just some friendly, amusing, flirty banter…

… or maybe it was entirely serious. 

Either way, she had to go out there and take the woman’s ‘dessert’ order with a straight face.

“Heh, yeah, straight.” She rolled her eyes, throwing her tie around her neck and tying the knot. “ _That_  is a good one. Gotta use it some time.”

Somewhere in the back of her mind, though, she started playing through a few different approaches to asking the woman out. Just to pass the time.

It’s not like anything would come of it, anyway.

* * *

Weiss watched as her sister returned to the table, raising a brow and remaining silent. She knew the woman rather well and asking would just make her defensive, while remaining silent and curious would eventually lead to-

“It probably should’ve occurred to me that she’d go to the bathroom to change her shirt.” Winter sighed, putting her elbows on the table for a moment and then putting her face in her hands. “Did you know that she has the physique of a weight lifter? I’m quite certain she could bench press me over her head with little to no issue. It suddenly occurs to me that I’d rather like to know the answer to that.”

“Sister, I do truly love to put it this way.” She leaned forward, offering a soft smile to her elder sibling. “It’s quite obvious I got the useless lesbian gene from you.”

Blue eyes peeked out at her, an ineffectual glare leveled her way. “That’s not how genetics work.”

“Am I  _wrong_?”

The silence she received functioned as all the confirmation she needed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For anyone curious, I lived a stone's throw from the Rauchbeir brewery I alluded to here for about two years. I'm being dead serious; it's like drinking liquefied bacon. So, if that's your thing, I recommend it.


	3. The First Time, Every Time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For Elderburn Week, Day 1: Soulmate AU. Idea courtesy of AntonSlavik020. Chapter warning for canon typical violence.

Why did wars happen?

Yang could answer the question on a logical level. Someone wanted something and others opposed them, so a war began, but it really didn’t make sense. It always seemed to be the same people fighting. It felt like she spent every life on the battlefield, even when she had no desire to fight.

A explosion, the chorus of gunfire. She gritted her teeth and waited.

Some people had a clearer connection to their previous lives and willingly walked the same path, time and time again. Yang certainly didn’t and she got the distinct feeling, at times, that she was trying something genuinely new, but it never stopped her from ending up with a weapon in her hand. A stick, a sword, a gun- it changed with the centuries but her aim remained the same. Fight, resist, don’t give up, a constant mantra that began with every beat of her heart.

The shouting of enemy soldiers, the groan of tanks advancing. Lilac eyes flicked to the next resistance fighter, just twenty meters away, and she could see the fear in his face. She felt it, too, but gave him a resolute nod.

This time, it started out rather innocuous. A newly elected leader, promises to continue the good work from before- but that hadn’t lasted long. Suddenly, Yang found unfair laws restricting everything from TV shows to how late people could be out, the marching of soldiers filling the night air, and expectations crushed as their entire social hierarchy was uprooted. Her little sister, who’d worked hard all her life to get her dream job, had the rug pulled from beneath her, all her education and natural talent amounting to nothing as the new regime deemed her a ‘radical’ and threatened to have her arrested if she didn’t settle into some menial job.

Another explosion, this time much closer. The soldiers had advanced and the mortars were hardly denting the superior numbers. Yang gripped the firearm a little tighter and waited for the signal.

Ruby wouldn’t be kept down and her older sister was the first of many to join her resistance. Before long, it became open war between those who would force them down and those who would never be collared and chained. What the resistance lacked in pure firepower and equipment, they made up for with guerrilla tactics and deception, drawing the neat formations into trap after trap. Ruby had proven herself an adept tactician, using everything in her power to improve their odds. They couldn’t win in a straight up fight but they could whittle and wear down their opponents, erode their resolve and their confidence, and steal supplies to even the battlefield just a little.

The scream of another incoming round split the night, this one hitting dead on its target as the resulting explosion shook the ground and rattled her bones.

That was the sign.

Rolling onto her stomach, Yang pushed to her feet and started charging, over the lip of the depression she’d laid in and onto the battlefield proper, the shotgun raised to rest against her shoulder as she took the first shot. It didn’t have much in terms of range or capacity, true, but when she pulled the trigger and sent a small hail of buckshot tearing into the disoriented soldiers, it didn’t matter. That first shot jump started the rest of the resistance fighters, a chorus or smaller pops ringing out before the echo of her own died down. And she lead the charge.

That was something else that never changed. Yang always plunged headfirst into battle, at the head of the formation, ready to take on anyone and everyone. It gave the others faith that she could bust a way through enemy lines big enough for others to follow and now proved no different, though they weren’t quite trying to break through. No, they merely aimed to situate themselves between the tanks, eliminating the infantry and anyone foolish enough to pop their heads out, keeping the heavy hitters from firing for fear of shooting their own forces.

And, really, they were only the distraction.

Yang pumped the shotgun and fired again, in the other direction, sending a few more soldiers to the ground as they tried to either return fire or flee. The former seemed the more pragmatic solution, but the enemy soldiers were tired from being harassed all day long and even more disoriented when a fresh round of mortars fell behind them- far enough away for the resulting explosions not to pose a direct threat to the resistance but close enough to make them wonder. Ruby had planned the attack well, banking off the propaganda that painted the resistance as nihilistic, suicidal nutjobs. Ultimately, that sort of enemy couldn’t be defeated by conventional means; if they were within line of sight, you were as good as dead, because the very idea of retreating meant nothing.

So they played into that. Laid in a field where it would be all too easy to be crushed by the encroaching tanks. Rained mortars just over their own heads. Charged at tanks and soldiers with body armor while wearing the patchwork ones they’d cobbled together- they looked like the end of desperation given physical form.

It worked rather well for them.

Before Yang could pump the shotgun again, she’d reached within a few feet of a wide eyed, dazed enemy soldier with blood running down his face, and she wasted no time in shifting her grip to slam the butt of her weapon into his face, at the very least knocking him out cold and possibly fracturing his skull. He fell where he stood and she pressed forward, firing from the hip and never slowing her advance. The long barrels of the tanks moved quickly, tried to zero in on her, but they couldn’t get ahead and itchy trigger fingers sent the rounds flying behind her entirely. 

She heard the explosions and the cries of agony. Some part of her wished she could turn around and save them, but she couldn’t. With the bright orange scarf wrapped around her neck, she remained a symbol the resistance could rally around, much like Ruby. As long as she continued pushing, they had a chance of winning this.

Yang hopped up onto the nearest tank, clamoring as best she could with one hand in time to thrust the muzzle of her shotgun into a slit in the armor that opened up only so much so the soldier within could see where she’d gone. She pulled the trigger immediately, reaching up to pump it quickly as the turret began to move, dragging her along with it. Two more shots rang out, either the full force or the ricochets in the enclosed space bringing the thing to a stop as she yanked her weapon out, reaching up to the strap across her chest to load more shells into it. With a grunt, she pushed herself to climb up on top of the turret, lilac gaze sweeping across the battlefield as the wind caught in her hair.

Another thing that came around with every life- this time, something she actively encouraged- was the moniker she used and it rose now above the din.

“Dragon!”

Her gaze snapped to her right even as gunfire chorused around her, catching on the sight of a resistance fighter trying his best to overpower a soldier popping up from the hatch on another tank. She jumped off, stumbling slightly as she landed and ran as fast she she could, firing along the way at the soldiers trying to regroup around her. Bullets flew all around in the chaos, with resistance fighters using the tanks as cover while drawing the crews out from within and soldiers trying to figure out  _where_  to go and regroup, every direction seemingly cut off.

They were holding the soldiers in place. Ruby said they would need to keep the tanks and infantry there in the open field for at least thirty minutes and take out as many of the tanks as possible, or at least immobilize them. From the lack of explosions and the slowing of the tanks, Yang supposed they were doing pretty damn good on that front.

As she reached the man having trouble, she managed to get halfway up the side of the tank when it suddenly exploded, sending her flying back.

Oh, right. Ruby had warned her that the commander of this particular batch of soldiers would likely resort to friendly fire if they pressed hard enough. Seemed like they’d done just that.

“Retr-!” She gagged and coughed, the wind knocked from her chest forcing her to draw in a deep breath and try again. “Retreat!”

The cry echoed as the resistance fighters abandoned their tasks and began running  _away_  from their starting point. It confused the soldiers even more- a few even started running with them, thinking it was the military calling a retreat- and they used that as much as they could, darting to the depressions running through the field. Unlike the soldiers, who’d stumbled in the darkness, the resistance fighters had learned this particular field like the back of their hands.

Yang’s body burned. She probably had shrapnel embedded somewhere in her side but she ran anyway, allowing the pain to fuel her to keep pushing, waving an arm over her head to call her comrades after her.

An explosion off to her right made her wince, mainly due to the proximity, but the lack of subsequent fire gave her hope. They were few in number but they’d launched their attack late enough that they must’ve caught enough of the tank crews off guard to take them out. Bullets flew all around them, a fair amount being directed her way, seeing as her scarf tended to draw attention even in the darkest of nights from both friend and foe. It was worth the risk.

Yang preferred it that way, honestly. Because for as many times as she’d been on battlefields, she’d yet to die on one, and she would much rather take that gamble herself than let someone else take it.

She counted the seconds until the tank would be able to fire again, eyes fixed on the depression she planned to use for cover until  _something_  happened. 

Ruby hadn’t been specific on that part. Just that, once the retreat was called, they needed to get as far away from the tanks as possible and to return fire sparingly. Focus on creating distance.

Then, she heard it. Something as good as a death knell: the dull hum of helicopters approaching the field.

The blonde jumped into the depression, rolling and pressing herself flat, shuffling around to point the muzzle of her shotgun over the little lip shielding her from the soldiers’ view. The military had superior equipment and while they’d prepared to deal with the infantry and the tanks, but an airborne threat? No.

The others were arranged around her, a few more throwing themselves into the depression after her. She glanced around, having reached the end of her mental countdown and with a rousing cry coming from the soldiers as they surged forth ringing through the air, their backup reaching the other side of the field. Yang could see the blinking lights as they cut through the night and she had to face reality.

Her luck had to run out at some point. All these lives on the battlefield… one had to end there eventually, right?

“Hey, Dragon.” Someone called out to her and she looked over, seeing the fear flashing in amber eyes coupled with that grim sort of resolve that came to someone facing their end. “This is bigger than us, right?”

Her hands tightened on her weapon. “Yeah.” She nodded. “We make ‘em remember us.” Turning onto her sides- and ignoring the sharp pain that came when she rolled to her right- Yang raised her voice and called out to the remaining resistance forces. “Listen up! After those choppers buzz us, we pop up, and we give ‘em everything we’ve got! We might go down but we’ll take ten for everyone one of us!”

The engines overhead were deafening as the helicopters swept by and the boom of the tank round- a bit too far beyond, likely to spook them into moving back into the open field- seemed to signal their approaching end. When the door guns on the airborne threats started up, the choir of death from above seemed a sure sign that they wouldn’t be making out of this alive.

Yang pushed herself up, ignoring the pain and raising her shotgun in preparation for her last stand. Everyone else had followed her lead and they all let out their first five seconds of shots in tandem- several bursts for most everyone else and three shots from Yang- before the fighters’ gunfire came to a stuttered, slow stop. Not because they were being picked off, though.

To their utter shock and surprise, they  _weren’t_  the targets of the helicopters’ fire. One of the overhead death machines seemed to be focused on the remaining tank- the commander’s tank, if Yang didn’t miss her guess- while the others mowed down the soldiers.

As soon as the information processed, the blonde bellowed out above the din. “GET BACK DOWN!”

She jumped back to her previous position, almost scrambling in her haste to avoid being mistaken for the enemy. Her actions prompted the others to follow, all of them exchanging equally perplexed glances as the machine gun fire continued.

Honestly, while Yang wouldn’t put it  _past_  her sister to have somehow hijacked a full squadron of helicopters, she wasn’t sure if she could quite  _believe it_.

When the gunfire stopped and she could tentatively poke her head up, none of the enemy soldiers remained, and the single working tank had been reduced to a metallic rendition of Swiss cheese, smoke wafting up from it. The helicopters overhead began moving, all save for one, which hovered over to a free space a hundred feet away and began lowering itself to the ground.

Well, she might as well get to the bottom of this. Turning to yell over the roar of the blades, she made a sweeping gesture towards the nearly still battlefield. “Someone, get on figuring out which tanks we can move and which ones are too damaged! The rest of you, get the wounded loaded up and ready to roll out!”

“Doesn’t that include you, Dragon?” One of them pointed at her side, caked in blood from an open wound, a piece of twisted metal jutting out from her torn flesh.

“I’ll be fine,” she said, shrugging off the spike of pain she felt only because she was now  _aware_  of the possible extent of her injuries. She’d bounce back. “Tend to the others. I’ll see who we have to thank for the save.”

Yang moved across the battlefield, wincing at the annoying throbbing coming from her side as she stepped over dead soldiers and debris. She put a hand under the wound to push up and staunch the bloodflow a little, the sharp edges cutting into her hand, but kept a firm hold on the grip of her shotgun, prepared in the event that this was some sort of powerplay in a military coup and not her sister at all.

As the helicopter prepared to set down, the person in military fatigues on the door gun pushed out with their foot, allowing for someone else to slip through the small gap and land on the ground. A tall woman wearing an officer’s uniform swept her gaze across the field before light blue eyes focused on Yang and she strode towards her with a rigid posture and a grim frown. It looked like every other uniform she’d seen- stark white with black accents, black boots and gloves, a touch of blue, and each color had its meaning but none of them rang true anymore- and pure white hair done up in a severe bun.

“Seems we almost arrived too late.” She gestured towards the resistance fighters picking over the battlefield, either focusing on wounded or collecting up supplies. It made Yang feel like a vulture, at times, but she had to admit, they needed as many bullets as they could get. “You’ve taken heavy losses.”

“Not as heavy as you think,” she replied with a smirk. “We only started thirty strong.”

The woman raised a brow, glancing around again. “Those are rather steep odds. Thirty people against half a battery?”

“Hey, we’re resistance fighters.” She cracked a smile. “We  _resist_  your notions of statistical disadvantage.”

Not one of her best puns, and most of the time she got either groans or eye rolls for her trouble, but the military woman in front of her seemed surprised enough to let out a genuine chuckle. “I suppose you have a point. You must be Yang.”

“Yeah, nice to meet ya, Miss…?” The blonde reached a hand forward, feeling only a little bad the glove she wore was covered in her own blood. She quickly brushed it against her hip to get the majority off before redoing the motion.

“Winter. Winter Schnee.” She shook Yang’s hand- and in that moment, the battlefield around them fell away.

It was replaced by so many others as she relived dozens of previous lives in more vivid detail than ever before. All different seasons, all manner of weapons in her hand, all manner of armor or lack thereof, with only a few constants: the hand in hers and the blue eyes staring into her own.

_This_  was why she found herself on the battlefield time after time, even when she would really rather not fight. When every instinct screamed to try something new, to explore what she hadn’t before, _this_ was why she always came back to fighting. Because they only ever met on a battlefield, allies brought together by circumstance or money or like minded ideals. Hell, the very first time,  _Yang_  was the one coming to the rescue, and while they seemed to flip flop in that respect, it was the only part that seemed to change.

She blinked, and saw the woman again: her soulmate, found once more.

As she struggled to come up with something to say, Winter let out a breathless laugh, squeezing her hand a little tighter. “Sundrop.”

That sparked something deep in her chest. A nickname they’d kept constant every time, something she vaguely thought about but couldn’t actually remember until they met.

“Snowdrift.” Yang pulled on the hand in hers, forcing her to take a step forward and throwing her arms around the woman and burying her face in her shoulder. “We really gotta stop meeting like this.”

“I’m tempted to agree.” Arms carefully encircled her, mindful of the shrapnel in her side. “Why is it I can never meet you when you’re  _not_  bleeding and in excruciating pain?”

“Aw, c’mon, it’s not that-” She winced, the flexing of her own arms shifting the metal enough for the spike of pain to rob her of breath momentarily. 

Almost immediately, Winter pivoted and slung one of her arms around the taller woman’s shoulders, holding her by the wrist while the other hand landed on the blonde’s hip. “Why do you always down play your injuries? Even when you’re the one bringing the cavalry, you always get hurt.”

“Guess you could say I’m always hurtin’ for ya,” she replied, allowing herself to be directed towards the helicopter. “But I’ll be fine.”

“Once we get you looked at by a medic, you will be.” The military woman walked in step with her, motioning with her head for one of the soldiers within the chopper to come out and grab Yang’s weapon.

“So, what’s the story this time?” She couldn’t help but chuckle. “You usually go for the military, so that’s not a surprise.”

“Usually, I’m fighting for the good guys.” A touch of bitterness infected her tone. “Imagine my surprise when things didn’t work out that way this time.”

“Well, had to happen eventually, right?”

“Please don’t say that while you’re bleeding.” Winter helped her into the helicopter, putting her in one of the seats and waving over someone with a bag strapped to their hip. “You realize how many times I’ve come close to losing you on the battlefield, right?”

“Lucky for you, I’m stubborn.” Yang cracked a smile, shifting to let the medic work. “So, did Ruby convince you to turn against the government?”

“My sister did, actually.” She glanced at the cockpit briefly. “Apparently, she was captured by the Resistance some time ago and released by one of your own.”

“Yeah, we know.” The blonde shook her head, wincing as the medic got to work on her side. “Blake’s the good sort and we trusted her judgment.”

“A wise decision. Weiss gathered up everyone she could trust and convinced us to start fighting for the right side. We came out here to save you.” Winter fidgeted, watching the medic’s work with utmost attention. “After compromising the defenses at our base, of course.”

“So  _that’s_  where Ruby is.” A small chuckle escaped her lips. No wonder her sister had kept silent on the full plan; like  _hell_  she would’ve let Ruby charge into an enemy base without her, if she’d known. “She always picks the dangerous missions.”

“Thirty people against  _tanks_  and you think  _she_  picked the hard part?”

“Now that I know I had you comin’ for me?” She nodded. “Yep.”

The military- well, now former military woman shook her head, preparing to say something but stopping as one of the resistance fighters came up to the helicopter door.

“We’ve got most of the tanks working and everyone’s loaded up!” He shouted, shaking slightly but not overtly injured. “What do we do now?”

“Prepare to follow us,” Winter said, squaring her shoulders as best she could given the low clearance of the helicopter’s bay. “Once the rest of our squadron returns, we’re heading to the base just east of here.”

The man’s eyes went wide. “We can’t take on a whole base!”

“Yes, we can.” Blue eyes flashed with determination as she set her jaw. “We’re not a Resistance anymore. We’re Revolutionaries. We’ve got to win to earn that title, so from this point forward, there’s no battle we can’t undertake. We have tanks and helicopters and, once we’ve taken the base, we’ll have jets and more ammunition.” She nodded. “We can do this.”

“She’s right.” Yang sat up, somehow managing not to cringe even as another stabbing pain radiated from her side. “We’ve got momentum. Can’t stop now; we’re going to steamroll those bastards and keep going, all the way to the Capitol. We’re taking our country back.”

He paused, then nodded, a fire igniting in his eyes. “Right. Okay! I’ll get everyone together!”

As the man ran back towards the tanks, a thought popped into her head. “Hey, Snowdrift… why do you  _always_  carry a sword?”

“I’d like to pretend it’s just part of the uniform but I genuinely have a predilection for them.” A white brow arched. “Why do you always  _insist_  on bringing a weapon wholly unsuited to the combat you’re engaging in?”

“That’s not-”

“Shotgun against a  _tank_ , Sundrop.”

Yang shrugged. “That’s one of the things you love about me.”

“You’re certainly not wrong.” Winter reached out, cupping her face lightly. “But how about you stay on the door gun for tonight? Once you’re healed, we’ll both be on the front lines.”

“Sounds good to me,” she replied, turning her head to press a kiss against the woman’s palm.

Why did wars happen?

In the grand scheme of things, Yang really didn’t know. But as long as they did, she would find herself on a battlefield, and on one of those battlefields, she’d find this woman- her soulmate. She might look a little different, might talk a little different, might act a little different with every iteration, but when those blue eyes lit up with a cold fire that burned bright with her passion, Yang knew she’d found her, the one who complimented her own fiery soul, the one who would stand by her when they eventually wrestled peace away from the drying grasp of a tyrant or a dictator or a bully or a warmonger.

So, even when she really didn’t want to fight, she did. And she always would. Because even if things eventually had to change, she wouldn’t risk losing  _this_  for the world.


	4. I Need A Hero

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 2 of Elderburn Week, Superhero AU.

Yang Xiao Long lived for the thrill.

When she was younger, she’d be the one climbing trees and jumping from cliffs by her house into the water below. The rush invigorated her, made her feel alive and fierce, and while their mother had always gently chided her about being so reckless, she also praised the little blonde with pigtails for being so fearless.

When she got into her teens, she took just as many risks, because that was right about when her powers became noticeable. She rode her motorcycle a bit too fast and she ran with the bad crowd, the sort their mother would’ve warned her against were she still alive. But for every broken bone, for every punch across her jaw or kick to her gut, she got stronger, until she could start an inferno with the snap of her fingers. Keeping the liquid fire running through her in check came second nature but those moments when she could let loose were far and few between, and she usually used a bonfire or something similar to cover just how she expressed her passion for life. It wasn’t exactly the honest way to go about it but it  _was_  the safest.

Luckily, her younger sister didn’t seem to posses the same penchant for the dangerous as she did, her latent super speed only rivaled by her sheer brilliance in the engineering field, but she certainly had a noble streak to rival Yang’s recklessness. So, when Ruby decided to don a ridiculous mask and cowl, to fight the bad guys in the most direct method possible, it seemed only natural for her big sister to step in and help out. 

They operated independently but with close communication; she always knew where her sister was and vice versa. If they caught wind of something big going down, they’d time their arrivals so it appeared like they’d stumbled upon the scene independently, even joked with each other like strangers would, or coworkers who didn’t actually spend much time working side-by-side. The news didn’t seem onto them and the local police force, although publicly critical of their methods, didn’t seem too interested in unmasking the super powered, masked vigilantes in their city. As a result, Vale had become relatively safe from petty crime but something of a hotbed for those with something to prove.

On the upside, the majority of their frequent fliers were the theatrical sort, more than willing to take hostages and wait a few hours for their ‘arch nemesis’ to show up rather than straight up endangering innocent people. But there were a few who had enough screws loose that she found herself sincerely concerned about if she could live with the consequences of being late, even once, when they were involved.

That’s what had her running along a rooftop at o’ dark thirty on a Monday, gathering up the fire in her veins and exploding upwards as she jumped to the next one, the rain sliding across her visor hardly impeding her sight in the slightest. On the other side of town, they’d learned about a weapons shipment to supply one of their longest running acquaintances- a man who’d once been a hero and had turned towards ruthless methods of exacting his twisted version of ‘justice’. 

“Flying high, Eagle?”

“Heading to roost, Owl,” she said, trying to keep the grim excitement from her voice. They’d devised the codenames- entirely unrelated to their public images or secret identities- as a method of ensuring that, were their channel ever compromised, nothing important would be relayed. At least, nothing anyone but themselves could  _understand,_  anyway. “Got the birdseed?”

“Three bags. What about you? Any nickels?”

“Oh, I got plenty.” They’d timed it out so Ruby would arrive first this time, scope out the area before she ever got close. Honestly, she was running a bit ahead of schedule, already crossing over the city’s main thoroughfare when she should be just hitting the rooftops of the south side. “Thing’s’ll be shiny tonight.”

“No doubt.” Ruby grunted, though a smile could be heard in her voice. “I’ll let you know when I get back to the cage.”

“Sounds good.” She reached up and deactivated her mic, finding the button built into the underside of her helmet with practiced ease. Honestly, she felt more like a turtle with all the armor, but the gauntlets, chest piece, and greaves had saved her a few times, not to mention the knee pads. After the first time someone had broken one of her kneecaps with a metal bat, she’d learned that ‘pain is gain’ just wasn’t a feasible plan all the time. The whole ensemble- from the track suit she wore beneath the armor to the individual pieces- was a deep, dark blue,  _very_  far removed from her typical color choices, and she’d recently incorporated a lighter blue trim around the edges after the last time she’d been quite nearly blown up. The whole get up gave her normally muscular and curvaceous silhouette a blocky, stout build, and she’d stood in front of cutouts of her alter ego without anyone thinking twice about it.

In other words: the perfect disguise.

As she landed on the next rooftop, Yang skidded to a halt. Out of habit, she’d glanced over to the rooftop of the city’s police department, the main building downtown that housed the highest brass. Although they strictly maintained their public discouragement of the vigilantes’ activities, every now and again Ruby or Yang would find someone standing on the roof with an old fashioned lamp burning overhead. Archaic, but it got the point across; whatever was going on, the masked duo were the police’s best shot at cracking the case, and they weren’t above admitting they needed that glimmer of hope.

She looked across to the next building, biting her lip beneath her disguise. Ahead of schedule and nearly to her destination but with some time to spare, she could at least swing by and see what the cops wanted. Knowing her luck, it would be something equally big, and the sisters would have to wrap up their night as quickly as possible to start recon on the next big takedown. She just hoped it wasn’t another cartel; they always carried  _way_  too many guns for her to be entirely comfortable relying on her sister’s speed and sleek, bulletproof armor to keep her safe.

Yang squatted low and jumped high into the air, venting heat from her body through the contours her sister had designed to act as thrusters of sorts, allowing her to cushion her fall as super heated air worked against gravity. Ruby liked to joke that she was full of more hot air than most blimps, so she should be able to float by all accounts, but that was usually countered with a friendly reminder that, no matter how fast she was, the younger sister could never beat her at Mario Kart. For some reason, that remained a sore spot, even into their twenties.

As she lightly landed on the top of the roof access, lilac eyes fell on the particular officer waiting for her and she had to bite back a curse.

A crisp pair of slacks and a dark blue overcoat with a white shirt beneath, hair like moonlight pulled into a tight bun while her bangs fell over her right eye, arms crossed and blue eyes staring off into the distance- Detective Winter Schnee was a woman not to be trifled with, in any sense of the word. She typically worked homicides but had been tasked with ‘tracking down’ the vigilantes when murders suddenly decreased in the city, the average person absolutely terrified of finding themselves on the receiving end of the sisters’ particular brands of justice. A straight laced police officer with a short but stellar record and a former stint in the military- had the woman been provided the ample tools and resources, she probably would’ve had both sisters in cuffs by the end of the first month. She could be intense, a cool persona and a colder voice making it seem like she embodied her namesake but she had a… playful side, too, though it came out very rarely. Her younger sister, Weiss, had joined the police force as well, but an incident shortly before Ruby and Yang arrived in the city had dashed any hopes of her following Winter’s footsteps. Their paths had crossed initially at the physical therapy center Ruby worked at- the better job part of the reason they moved to Vale in the first place. The sisters had stuck together after their father died much like Winter and Weiss had after being disowned by theirs.

Well, technically,  _Weiss_  got disowned, and Winter disinherited herself immediately after; the Schnees had a long standing history in Atlas as public servants and though the current generation had chosen to live in a different kingdom, the transgression of being injured on the job seemed too high to be forgiven.

Yang had heard the whole story a time or two over the months. At first, they were just casual acquaintances, exchanging small talk in the lobby while she waited for Ruby to go on her lunch break and Winter waited for her sister’s physical therapy to end. The first time she met the woman outside the clinic, it was as a masked vigilante delivering a drug dealer to the proper authorities. Since then, it seemed the more she saw the woman when they both were ‘off the clock’, the more she’d see her on it as well. From a purely pragmatic standpoint, that probably constituted a dire concern she’d need to worry about if she wanted to keep her identity hidden…

But Yang lived for the thrill and she rather liked the woman’s company.

“So what’s the story, Flat Foot?” She hopped down, landing a few feet away from Winter and turning around slowly, as if bored. Some part of her hated putting on the facade of someone disenchanted and occasionally hostile towards police officers, but it was all part of separating the two identities. “Who’s ass do I have to save now?”

“You act as if you don’t enjoy it,” the detective replied, brows furrowing briefly before the woman sighed. “Must you insist on doing this little dance every time?”

“Only when Vale’s finest can’t live up to the title.” Yang frowned, noting how it seemed like nothing she said elicited a reaction. Usually she’d get a tightening of Winter’s lips, a twitch in her brow, sometimes even a small huff that seemed to be picked up from her sister as opposed to the other way around. She’d gotten used to hostility and annoyance hidden behind practiced poise, not this… almost stone like countenance. “Seriously, what’s going on? You’re usually more chatty than this.”

The detective watched her, unable to see past the visor. She couldn’t see how Yang’s brows knit together in confusion, how her lips tugged into a small frown- it was starting to feel more and more alien to stand there, looking up into cool blue eyes, and pretend she disliked the woman and the organization she represented. If her previous recklessness hadn’t saddled her with a rap sheet, she would’ve taken the obvious route and joined the police force herself- and encouraged Ruby to do the same- rather than run around at all hours of the day and night, beating up drug dealers and megalomaniacs in the streets of Vale. She’d done it to herself and now she had to live with it, even the bad parts, so she tried to think up something else to get Winter to spill whatever information she had. 

Ultimately, Yang was beaten to the punch, for once.

“You’re going after Fang, aren’t you?” The detective pushed off the wall she leaned against, making her superior height all the more noticeable, but she didn’t try to strike an intimidating pose. She’d seen Winter grill potential suspects with exacting questions and a sharp gaze before yet now she seemed more… reserved, almost muted. “We’ve heard talk about an especially large shipment coming in soon, but none of our informants are willing to give us more than that.”

“I’ve heard the rumors, too.” Rolling her shoulders, the vigilante feigned disinterest as best she could, thankful the disguise helped conceal her true feelings on the matter. “I’m sure it’s nothing. And if it is, we’ll take care of it.”

Winter pushed out a breath through her nose, agitation showing through. “Because nothing can bring down the mighty Steam and Aurora, is that it?”

As far as monikers went, they weren’t  _ideal_  by any stretch of the imagination, but they’d agreed anything that sounded appropriately cool would probably come back to them  _somehow_. Especially given her thorough appreciation of puns. 

“I can take care of myself.” Crossing her arms over her chest, Yang did her best to sound unconcerned as she continued. “Everyone else should just stand clear. I’ll take care of Fang,  _if_ he shows up.” They’d done this song and dance a few times, though it never got any easier. Typically, she wouldn’t be concerned about whether or not her words came off as exceptionally rude- she did what she wanted and she had fun; people could keep their opinions to themselves- but she’d actually  _liked_  the straight laced detective. Not just for being a break from the rest of the force, who would gladly turn over their entire jobs to the vigilantes if possible, but for being a very staunch and sincere friend ever since they met. “Do you have anything for me or not? I got  _your_  job to be doing, ya know.”

“As a matter of fact, I do,” she said, reaching into her coat and pulling out a single flower- freshly picked, by the looks of it, from the park down on Fifth.

Yang’s eyes widened. A yellow snapdragon. Her favorite.

They were walking through the park earlier that day, having run into each other and opting to grab lunch together. She’d looked over and seen some growing, excitedly confessed they were plentiful and wild back home but she hadn’t seen them in the city yet, and Winter had smiled in the enigmatic way that she did. Something had lurked in her eyes then, something that went unvoiced no matter how much she gently prodded, and now she had the answer as to why.

“If you would truly rather handle this yourself, I suppose there’s nothing we can do to stop you.” The detective brushed her fingers along the petals. “But… I would like to request you be careful. As much as you can, at any rate.”

Taking a look around, letting the helmet do the work her eyes couldn’t to ensure the coast was clear, Yang took a step forward and reached up to deactivate the face plate portion of the helmet, lowering her voice in the process. “How long have you known?”

“Truthfully? I didn’t, until just now.” The woman let out a quick sigh of relief before her expression turned dark. “Now, tell me the truth. Is Fang’s shipment tonight?”

The vigilante debated for all of a second before relenting. “Yeah, it’s tonight. The abandoned docks on the northwest side of the city.” She reached out, putting a hand on the other woman’s shoulder. “But you  _can’t_  bring out the big guns this time, Winter. Whatever he’s got, it’s bad, and we can’t tip him off.”

“What if we stood by a few blocks away?” Winter gestured to the building below them. “No helicopters, as many plain, street vehicles as we have-”

“It’s too risky.” Yang shook her head. “It would put too many people in danger.”

“So you and Aurora are going to pick this fight on your own?” The detective blinked, then tilted her head, and it was obvious she’d put the pieces together. “This is reckless.”

“This is  _me_ ,” she replied, glancing away briefly. “I know you don’t approve but this is how I’m going to deal with it. All goes well and I’ll be delivering Fang to you in the morning.”

“Hey, Eagle, landed a while ago.” Ruby’s voice sounded tense in her ear. “Birdbath’s a little full.”

_That_  meant that things were already not going well.

“And if it doesn’t?” Winter’s voice had a harsh edge, the same one she used when reprimanding a fellow officer or putting a stop to her sister’s self deprecating comments about herself. “You know very well that Fang’s dangerous; he will not hesitate to kill either of you.”

“We know.” She winced at the slip- though, seeing as no surprise registered in the woman’s face, she supposed it wasn’t nearly as telling- and continued slowly, surreptitiously flicking off her microphone for the moment. “I know the risks. But there’s no other option. Fang  _must_  be stopped and there’s a very short list of people who can do it.”

“Eagle?”

With a cringe, Yang reached up and flicked her mic back on. “I’m here, Owl, just… I’ll be there soon.”

The detective took a deep breath and released it slowly, looking down at the snapdragon in her hand. Tucking it carefully back into her coat, she pulled at her lapel and straightened it out, composing herself. “There’s no point in trying to talk you out of this.”

She looked up, noting the helpless pain in blue eyes while silencing her mic. “I’ll be fine. Promise.”

“You’d better be.” Winter paused, then darted forward, kissing the end of her nose. “For good luck.”

Yang couldn’t help the dumb little smile that came to her lips. “Uh… thanks…” She reached up, preparing to turn on her mic and slide the face portion back into place but hesitated. “Hey… you free some time this week?”

“I… should be off on Thursday.” The corners of her mouth lifted and a touch of coyness infected her tone. “Why do you ask?”

“Well… maybe we can grab dinner together?” With the press of a button slipping her mask back into place, the vigilante spread her hands. “I mean, dating a superhero, not a bad gig, right?”

Winter chuckled. “Very well. Dinner, Thursday. Now, try not to get yourself killed.”

“Ten-four, Flat Foot.” Hitting the mic, she turned and started running, jumping from the top of the precinct building to the next and venting a little heat to boost her. “Sorry, Owl, got a bit distracted.”

“Well, tonight’s  _really_  not the night for that.” Ruby sounded slightly frustrated. “There’s…  _a lot_  more pigeons here than we thought.”

Yang winced, landing on the next building a bit harder than she intended and immediately translating that energy into her next jump. “Well, then, guess we’re going to have to be hawks.”

“I’m… not sure if pigeons are hunted by hawks.”

“Tonight they are!” Yang suddenly felt lighter than she had in a long, long while. Having someone in on the secret was one thing but having a  _date_  on top of it was another. “I’ve got about five nickles and some change.”

“Got it!” Her good mood seemed to bolster her sister’s confidence.

It was going to be a  _good_  night.

* * *

Winter watches as Steam disappeared into the night, following the woman’s silhouette as long as she could before reaching into her pocket and pulling out her scroll, dialing a number by heart.

“Did you get the location?” He sister didn’t bother with a greeting, worry pulling her voice tight.

“Yes. Northwest, abandoned docks.” Making her decision, she turned towards the roof access door. “And I’m coming with you two.”

“What? Winter, no, that’s ridiculous.”

“It wasn’t an option.”

“You don’t even have any powers!” 

“Let _me_ worry about that,” she said, pulling the door open and descending the stairs two or three at a time. “Meet me by the coffee shop in twenty minutes.”

A moment of silence, and then: “Fine.”

As she replaced the device, she reached into her coat and felt the petals of the snapdragon. The detective once again felt thrilled her hunch proved true, partially to obtain the information her sister and her sister's girlfriend wanted.

But, if she was honest with herself, it was mainly because she  _really_  didn’t want to choose between the bright blonde whom she’d become rather fond of and the brash barbarian she’s become fixated with recently. Knowing they were the same person meant she could enjoy  _both_  sides of the woman’s personality, provided Fang didn’t manage to kill her tonight.

“Detective Schnee?” The officer in charge of the department’s armory raised a brow as she burst through the door without sparing a glance around the room, zeroing in on them instantly. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“I’m calling in a favor,” she said, gesturing towards the cages with heavy padlocks and thick metal surrounding them. “What do you have in my size?”

They laughed, pulling a large keyring from their hip and flicking through the keys. “You know, I always had a feeling someone would step across that line someday.” They shook their head. “I’d feel sorry for whoever pissed you off, but I’m sure it’s a long time coming.”

“It may very well be,” she said, more to herself as she hoped back up would arrive before Yang- and Ruby, who probably arrived first- were in  _too_  bad of shape.

“You’ll have to tell me all about the thrilling conclusion.” The officer paused, eyes going up to the experimental exosuits the Police Department had purchased as a means of dealing with their 'vigilante problem', though none had yet figured out how to operate the blasted things. Mainly because the manual and cryptokey had somehow found their way into Winter's possession. “But, uh, not  _too_  many details. I’d rather not testify against you.”


	5. A New Tradition

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Elderburn Week Day 4 prompt: Family. Monochrome and Strawbana in the background, if you squint.

Winter sipped her cup of coffee, trying to settle her nerves. Really, prior experience should be enough to calm her but something could always go wrong and it clawed at her heart every time she heard Yang’s muttered curses escalate into a roar of pain. Eyes flashing red, hair aglow, Yang looked like she often did in the midst of a battle, except absence her usual cocky smile and brash banter. It got bad enough that she didn’t even seem to notice when the door opened and their sisters hustled inside, a cranky two year old squirming in Weiss’ arms.

“Yang! Not in front of your daughter!” The younger Schnee chastised, doing her best to contain the child in her arms.

“ARE YOU KIDDING ME RIGHT NOW?” Yang rounded at the woman, one hand on her lower belly and the other gripping a nearby counter top for support. The hospital room, while small, managed to fit the four of them comfortably, though they were still awaiting Blake’s arrival. Once the process started in earnest, they’d all be ushered out to the waiting room to await the results while doctors and nurses filled the space, alongside Yang and Winter, of course.

“Sis, I thought you were going to get the epidural this time?” Ruby’s brows knit together in confusion, doing her best to calm the child with one hand.

“YEAH, GUESS WHOSE SEMBLANCE EATS THROUGH THAT-” Her response was cut short as yet another contraction tore through her, turning words into a guttural roar.

“Yang. Sit down,” Winter said, rising from her seat and going to her sister, accepting the now crying child and shushing her. “It’s okay, Zephyr. Mama’s fine. She’s just being a drama queen.”

“Snowdrift, I love you, but  _say that to my face_.” Although it sure  _sounded_  like her wife was furious, Winter could tell that any aggression stemmed from the pain of preparing for childbirth and had less to do with her words than a general discomfort. Huntresses didn’t register the pain the same as civilians, their auras typically activating to lessen the agony of it, but the energy build up brought with it an entirely different set of problems. “This is  _torture_.”

“Yes, it is.” As the child calmed down, Winter took the few steps over to her wife and wrapped an arm around her shoulders, carefully guiding her back towards the bed. “But we both agreed on this and you  _absolutely refused_  to let me carry.”

“You know what the odds are,” Yang said, voice tight enough she couldn’t tell what caused it as her wife wrapped one arm around her waist and put the other on her belly. It seemed to be an unconscious action, as if constantly checking to ensure the child within still moved. Once she got into the third trimester, the blonde almost always had a hand pressed to the flesh, though she admitted it didn’t make a lot of sense; it wasn’t like she  _couldn’t_  feel every time their unborn child moved already, but the extra sensation just satisfied some unspoken need. “I  _had_  to carry.”

Distracting the woman with realistic considerations always seemed to ease the process, though only in certain amounts. Before Winter could open her mouth and try to continue the conversation, another contraction wracked her wife and the arm around her waist squeezed, quite nearly pulling a pained cry from her lips as the woman’s superior strength threatened to snap  _something_. Thankfully, Zephyr didn’t seem to notice, suitably entranced by grabbing onto the dangling sapphire earring in Winter’s ear and lightly batting it, admiring the way the lights played off the gem.

As long as she didn’t start tugging, everything should be fine. “Just remember, you’ll pull through this.” She did her best to suck in air, ignoring the way her aura flared along her sides to protect her from another devastating squeeze. “And we’ll have our second little one in just a few short hours.”

“They’re gonna be the longest of my life.” Yang groused, though they’d finally made it to the bed, allowing her to sit down and at least calm herself enough that her hair stopped glowing. “Are we sure it’s worth it?”

Rolling her eyes, she let go of her wife and switched her grip on their toddler so she could hold the child out, pleased when Zephyr immediately reached out towards the other woman.

“Mama!”

Instantly, wide smiles broke out on their faces as Yang leaned forward to press a kiss against the child’s forehead. “Hey, Zeph. Sorry for scaring you.”

“Why Mama yell?” A little frown tugged at her pudgy face, raising one hand to her mouth to bite at her fingers- a nervous habit she seemed to be developing, though none of them could figure out where she’d picked it up from.

“Because Mama’s getting ready to bring your sibling into the world,” the pregnant woman replied, motioning down to her belly. “You’re gonna be a big sister!”

Blue eyes sparkled, turning a shimmering lavender around the edges as tiny hands started reaching for Yang’s belly. “Sister!”

“That’s right, little one.” Winter shifted the toddler around so she could touch her Mama, the child doing her damnedest to wrap her arms around her unborn sibling. That drew an appropriate amount of cooing and awing from the assembled adults. However, another contraction had Yang muffling a curse into her hand and her shoulders shaking, prompting Winter to pull their daughter away and entrust her to the care of her aunts for the time being. “It probably won’t be much longer now.”

“I’m here!” Blake burst into the room, out of breath and more than a little surprised when Weiss put a hand on her shoulder and quite nearly pushed her right back out. “Wait, I-”

Another, protracted but muffled scream from Yang changed the Faunus’ mind, leaving the married couple alone as a nurse came in to check on the blonde. Winter did her best to try and keep the woman calm as they checked how far she’d dilated, letting out a sigh of relief when they’d determined she could begin trying to push and directing the pregnant woman into the stirrups.

To ensure nothing went wrong, Winter detached her wife’s prosthetic arm and set it aside before being ushered away to clean up and change into scrubs. Although something of an argument at first, they’d eventually agreed to both be present for the birth of their children, when the situation permit. Considering General Ironwood was  _very_  sympathetic to that wish, she’d been on leave for the past two weeks, just in case, but those thoughts were pushed from her mind as she donned the medical scrubs.

She had to remain calm and focused and cool so she could help Yang, which she could absolutely do, of course.

She was Winter Schnee, after all.

* * *

Hours later, Yang lay back with sweat plastering blonde bangs to her forehead and holding the newest addition to their family, a small baby girl with the faintest wisps of platinum blonde hair on her head. She hadn’t actually opened her eyes yet but Winter doubted they would be much different from Zephyr’s; Schnee genes ran strong, though Branwen traits could still be seen in the width of tiny hips and shoulders. Personally, Winter found it a blessing, but she didn’t have much time to vocalize that as she traced a finger lightly along their daughter’s cheek.

“Wisteria? Walnut? Walter? Wendy?” Yang tried name after name but got no reaction from the little girl nestled in the crook of her arm. “C’mon. Wisteria’s a good name!”

“Have the waterworks stopped yet?” Weiss offered glibly as the rest of the extended family entered, finally permitted to meet the newest addition to an ever growing clan. Blake and Ruby followed, with Zephyr in her latter’s arms.

Yang laughed. “Nah, she’s still crying.”

“I am  _allowed_  to express my happiness, thank you both very much,” Winter replied, absolutely no heat behind the words as she cooed at the newborn, tears of happiness streaming down her cheeks.

Perhaps she  _did_  go a little overboard with expressing her emotions at times like these but, after having grown up in an environment devoid of such, was it any wonder she cried with joy when gifted with children of her own? Or when she married her wife? Or when they exchanged presents? Or when they- okay, maybe she went a  _little_  over the top, but Yang had often said she wasn’t to the ‘standing on a wobbly chair’ level yet, whatever that meant.

“Has she reacted to a name yet?” Ruby came over, carefully setting the toddler on the bed so she could see her new sibling.

“No.” Yang sighed, shaking her head. “Not even Wisteria!”

“Why are you do hung up on that one?”

“Because it’s pretty and it starts with a ‘w’! It’s, like, a  _perfect_  Schnee name!”

Another agreement that had been difficult to reach, at least at first. Opting for a hyphenated surname- a painfully long one at that, though they both acknowledged it could be worse- also brought them to another slight hiccup: what to name the children. Winter, frankly, had no desire to continue the Schnee family tradition of ‘W’ names, seeing as they’d stripped away many of the impractical restrictions placed on their families the moment it was within Winter’s and Weiss’ power to do so. Continuing the tradition just seemed… strange.

Yet, Yang had insisted on it. Very vocally. Something about their children having ties to both sides of the family; Yang’s name was derived from her father’s, after all, and though she’d never quite patched things up with the enigmatic bandit leader who gave birth to her, Raven had stopped by enough in recent years for the blonde to give a  _little_  bit and let Zephyr know her Grandmother.

The compromise they’d come to amounted to throwing names out until the little one reacted to one. Maybe the newborn wouldn’t be able to understand it or just something of the like but waiting for a reaction seemed to be as good a naming convention as any. Zephyr, of course, hadn’t reacted to any of the ‘W’ names Yang had suggested. In fact, Weiss ended up being the one to suggest her name, something the little girl’s Aunt took an exceptional amount of pride in, when there wasn’t another little bundle of joy to consider.

“Wynn? Westeria?”

Winter’s brows furrowed. “Did you just mispronounce Wisteria or were you trying to pass that off as a name?” Lilac eyes shot towards her and she wisely dropped the question; although past the ‘hard’ part, her wife obviously needed rest to completely recover, and pushing her buttons now just might be an unwise decision. “What about Wendel?”

Nothing.

Yang groaned. “Well… looks like we’re gonna have to open up the floor. Suggestions?”

“Talia?” Ruby put forth, to no effect.

“Francecsa?” Weiss said, meeting the same result.

“Zise?” Blake offered.

Suddenly, the baby started squirming, tiny, pudgy face screwing up in preparation for a cry.

Everyone in the room pressed closer, Yang and Winter exchanging a glance before they tried again.

“Zise?” The single word left her wife’s mouth tentatively and Winter watched as their daughter squirmed again, then began to fuss. While the others cheered, Yang let out a groan and laid her head back. “Wisteria’s a nice name though! We really couldn’t get a ‘W’?”

Seeing her chance, she took it. “Well, if we couldn’t get a ‘W’ or ‘X’,  _why_  not ‘Z’?”

“Oh Maidens now there’s two of them.” Weiss muttered in dismay, putting a hand to her face and sighing while Yang burst out laughing, almost enough to upset the tiny little bundle in her embrace.

“This is why I married you.” The shine in lilac eyes convinced her to lean over and kiss her wife, the moment brought to an end when the newly dubbed Zise began to cry in earnest. “Time for  _someone’s_  first meal!”

“Zephyr, come here.” Winter took their other daughter into her arms. “Can you say your sister’s name?”

“Zise?”

“Very good!” She smiled, pressing her lips to the little girl’s head. “And you know what this means, right?”

Zephyr nodded. “I gotta look out for her.”

“That’s right. You’re a big sister now, just like your Mama and I.” She looked over at Ruby and Weiss. “It’s a big responsibility.” Almost immediately, the toddler leaned forward and buried her face in the woman’s chest and whined. Winter couldn’t help but laugh right along with everyone else. “It comes with time, little one.”

A knock on the door preceded Taiyang popping his head in, excited voices in the hall belonging undoubtedly to an excited Kali and a pacifying Ghira. “Safe to come in yet? We’re not sure we can keep Gramma K away much longer, and the kids are feeding off it!”

“Yeah, come on in,” Yang said, fully focused on the newborn. “I’m just feeding her.”

Tai started to push the door open but then Kali brushed past him, eyes alight as the self proclaimed grandmother of any Team RWBY child found her target. “Oh, there she is! What’s her name?”

“Zise,” Yang said, becoming a little more comfortable with admitting as the minutes passed. “So we’re oh-for-two on the ‘W’ names.”

The Faunus ears perked up, her head tilting to the side slightly as a sly smile claimed her lips. “However, two-for-two on ‘Z’ names, correct?”

Winter’s brows rose, watching her wife’s reaction as the blonde frowned. “Yeah, but… that’s not the Schnee thing.”

“And they-  _we_  aren’t Schnees.” She pointed out, favoring the other woman with a soft smile. “We’re  _Xiao Long-Schnees_ , and we can have whatever traditions we want.”

With a slow nod of her head, Yang began to smile. “Yeah. Okay. But, wait a minute, I thought we agreed-”

“We are  _not_  changing our names to ‘Mrs. and Mrs. Schlong’, Yang.”

“Oh, fine.” Her wife pretended to pout, eyes fluttering closed slightly. She’d need at least a nap before being released from the hospital, but they still had quite the extended family to introduce to the newest member. “Ready to meet Gramma and your cousins, Zise?”

Zephyr perked up, squirming herself at the mention of the cousins, likely still out in the hall with Sun and the others. Pretty soon, the room would be packed to the bring with three generations spanning four kingdoms.

Winter truly couldn’t imagine any place she’d rather be than here, among the family that had stitched itself together after terrible battles, forging the way ahead together. She pressed another kiss to their daughter’s head, watching as her wife held their other daughter. They still had a long day ahead of them, but they’d be alright.

As long as they had each other, they’d be alright.


	6. That Just Happened

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Elderburn Week Day 4: Roommate AU.

Winter watched through bleary eyes as the credits rolled across the screen from some  _really bad_  horror flick from thirty years ago. She honestly hadn’t even registered the name, too eager to indulge in the weekly activity her roommate had suggested shortly after they moved in together. It started off as just a means of acclimating to each other’s presence and had turned into a genuine bonding experience and a much needed method of letting off steam.

About a year ago, she’d exited the military service with the hope that transitioning to civilian life would be easy. Her sister, Weiss, had put her in touch with a young woman who attended her university and was looking for a roommate. It seemed like a suitable compromise; it wasn’t moving back home but neither did it put the pressure on her to immediately find a full time job, instead relying on the residual payments from her time in the service to allow her a period of adjustment. That was how she’d come to share a living space with one Yang Xiao Long.

The blonde woman, a mere four years younger than herself, had an infectious laugh, a sharp sense of humor, and a positively glowing countenance, though she also had something of a temper and penchant for physically settling her accounts. At first, they’d hit a few rough patches, mostly due to Winter’s maladjustment to living with others. Her term of service had mostly included single person living arrangements, standardized furniture, and strict regulations, so to suddenly have someone else sharing the space, someone who didn’t mind leaving a coat thrown over the back of the couch or letting the dishes pile up in the sink for a few days. Yang didn’t shy away from chores; she just didn’t attend to them with the same rigid schedule that Winter did.

It had taken a month or so to… ‘loosen up’, as her roommate put it. The apartment was still cleaner than most and it probably wouldn’t raise too many brows were it subjected to an impromptu inspection but she didn’t feel a spike of irritation at the empty water bottle sitting on the table from Yang’s workout that morning. She didn’t feel the need to go over and grab the sweater left there from a few days ago and hang it up and she’d passed the sink earlier without immediately starting to clean the dishes. Honestly, Yang usually beat her to it nowadays anyway.

During the process of not being so rigid and instantaneous in her cleaning habits, her roommate had suggested a movie night to just sit next to each other on the couch and enjoy something together. At first, she’d thought the suggestion ridiculous, but relented purely from a lack of anything better to do. She’d started constructing her resume and applying for jobs, so the distraction helped.

It wasn’t a genre she would’ve chosen herself. Winter preferred the sort of movies that made her think or drew her into the characters or story. Mindless action and jump scares were about as far from her tastes as one could get but, she had to admit, being encouraged to vocalize her displeasure certainly made them more bearable. Apparently, laughing at the poorly constructed plots, the nonsensical logic, and the terrible acting was the entire point of the exercise, and she could provide scathing critique in a never ending supply. Yang just turned them into jokes, turning phrases with such ease that it sometimes surprised the older woman, and she found herself laughing until she cried more often than she’d care to admit. 

As she reached forward and grabbed the remote, Winter did her best not to move too much or too suddenly so she wouldn’t wake the woman leaning against her. Yang had dropped off somewhere around midway through the movie, her jokes noticeably lacking through the first half. She’d been pulling double shifts a lot recently, making an excuse of saving up for something big that she never specified, and it left her more tired than usual.

Winter had landed a job- not a career, by any stretch of the imagination, but a job that paid the bills- about three months after exiting the service but didn’t work nearly as many or as awkward hours as her roommate. The weekly movie nights became their primary source of prolonged interaction and, through them, they learned more about each other. It became less sitting on opposite sides of the couch and more sitting side-by-side and teasing each other almost as much as riffing on the movie in question.

With the television shut off, Winter internally debated with herself. Should she let Yang rest? The woman had fallen asleep leaning against her shoulder, snoring softly, and while the dead weight against her didn’t bother her so much, the growing puddle of drool probably should. The former soldier had an early day and felt much more tired than usual, though, so it only occurred to her as a fleeting though. She was warm and comfortable, so moving didn’t come in very high on her list of priorities. Maybe if she just laid them both down, they could take a nap and move to their respective bedrooms later, when they awoke. Or it would make the trip to the kitchen to make breakfast that much faster.

“Yang?” She mumbled, opting to put the question out there to see how deeply the woman slept. “Do you want to sleep out here?”

“Huh?” For a moment, the blonde nuzzled further into her side and groaned, then sat up a little. “Wha- the movie over?”

“Yes, it just ended.” Winter sat up a little straighter. “You fell asleep.”

“Aw, I’m sorry.” She scrubbed at her eyes. “I just… I dunno, this week kicked my ass something fierce.”

“It happens,” she said, a small smile on her lips as she watched Yang stretch a little. “We should probably go to bed.” Neither of them had work the following morning but they did have plans to go running shortly after sunrise. Though, in hindsight, perhaps sleeping in would be the better option. “Do you still want to go running tomorrow morning?”

“No,” she replied with a little whine. “But I gotta. Can’t skip on the cardio.”

“Then we’d better get to bed.” Reluctantly, they both got up, a pop or two coming from Winter’s lower back; something about carrying several pounds on her back for miles on end didn’t quite agree with her and she suspected it would get worse if she didn’t keep up with her physical regimen. At least she had a very devoted workout companion.

A frown tugged at her lips. After getting out, Winter had made some friends and acquaintances, both fellow former soldiers and civilians. Some through work, some through networking, and a few through functions with her sister. She’d even relented to her sister’s gentle nagging and went on a few dates. They didn’t go anywhere but it had provided two boons. One, she made a few more friends.

Two, she had to confront the reality that she’d grown…  _very_  attached to Yang.

That made it sound cold, she thought as she turned off the lights in the living room and checked the lock on the apartment door, because one got ‘attached’ to things. It would be more accurate to say she’d grown fond of her roommate.

Yang could be vivacious, playful, downright aggravating, but she also proved to be deeply empathetic, overtly affectionate with even her most casual friends, and her sense of humor could brighten any day. Really, she found herself continuously surprised that the woman didn’t have a steady relationship; just about anyone could fall in love with her. After the first two months of them living together, Yang didn’t seem to go out on dates. She had close friends but no one she openly dated.

“Wake up at zero-six?” Yang yawned as she spoke over her shoulder, making every word sound rounded at the edges.

She couldn’t help but grin as they walked towards the bedroom doors, still impressed at how quickly the other woman had picked up on military time and changed her own vernacular to accommodate. “Sounds perfect.”

“Great. Night, see you in the morning.” The woman stopped in front of her door and turned, almost as if she’d forgotten something. Then, much to Winter’s shock and surprise, Yang brushed a soft, almost there kiss against her cheek. “Love you.”

The former soldier froze in the hallway, eyes wide in surprise. She registered that her roommate had slipped into her room and shut her door, but it took a solid five minutes before she’d processed what had happened and another two to enter her own room and close her door behind her. Then she leaned back against the wood and tried to rationalize it.

Yang was tired, obviously. She’d given friends kisses on their cheeks in greeting and parting before, though that seemed restricted to her younger sister and her childhood friend. It probably didn’t mean anything more than that she was sleepy and not thinking clearly. She shouldn’t take it as anything more than that.

Shaking her head- and ignoring any sinking in her chest that she might or might not have felt- Winter started towards her bed, seeing as she was already in her pajamas.

She got about halfway there when there was a soft, almost inaudible knock on her door.

Winter went back to the door and opened it, eyebrows raising as she found her roommate standing on the other side. Her presence wasn’t much of a surprise but the rather impressive blush on her cheeks did count as one.

“Hey. So.” The blonde ran a hand through her hair. “Did I, uh… did I just imagine that or did I kiss you?”

“You did. And you said you love me,” she said, seeing no reason to sugarcoat the events. Obviously, her previous assumption that the woman was too tired to recognize her actions had proven true, and she steadfastly ignored the second pang that resonated through her chest.

Yang cringed. “Dang. I, heh, really thought I’d be smoother the first time saying that.” Lilac eyes darted up to meet her own, then looked away. “Uh. I. Well.”

“You’re tired. It’s understandable.”

“… right.” Her roommate laughed, scratching at her head and shrugging. “You’re… yeah, I should just…  _we_  should just go to bed and forget about it.”

The nervous energy radiating from the younger woman was almost palpable. It seemed most prudent for Winter to be as accommodating as possible; the last thing she wanted to do was make things uncomfortable between them.

“Of course.” She offered a smile. “It’s quite alright, Yang. These sorts of things happen.”

Yang nodded, looking down and shoulders slumping somewhat. “Yeah, you’re right. I guess I’ll just… head to bed I guess. Night.”

“Goodnight,” she replied, closing her door and standing there with brows furrowed. It didn’t seem like the woman had been comforted at all by her understanding response.

Perhaps she should call Weiss; she’d known Yang longer and perhaps had encountered something similar. Then again, she couldn’t imagine what would-

Suddenly, a thought occurred to her. Were the shoe on the other foot- had  _she_  done something potentially unwanted, especially involving Yang- she’d likely confront it as soon as possible, to prevent misunderstandings. She’d do her best to explain her actions and if, for some reason, her roommate tried to play it off as nothing… she’d run with it. But it would hurt.

And Yang said she loved people- her father, her sister, her friends- all the time. She’d never said it to  _Winter_  of course-

Oh.

_Shit._

Opening her door, Winter went to Yang’s and knocked three times, wincing at how loud the bangs sounded in comparison. When the door opened, she opted to get to the point.

“Did you mean that in a romantic context?”

“What?”

“Did you mean that in a romantic context?” The second time was followed by an explanation. “I’ve seen you kiss family or friends. If you see me in that light, that’s fine. However, if you mean it in a romantic context, that’s different.”

The woman blinked at her. “How?”

“Because if it’s not romantic…” she paused, searching for the right words. “Then I’ll have to adjust my own expectations. I wouldn’t want you to feel pressured into returning something you don’t feel yourself.”

“Are you… saying…” Yang shook her head, scrubbing a hand over her face. “I am  _way_  too tired for this- are you into me? Let’s just- just cut past the bull, would you date me?”

“Yes,” she replied, tilting her head slightly. “Honestly, I’ve considered asking you out for about a month now.”

“For a- are you serious?” Rather than be angry, the other woman laughed, mirth wiping away the nervousness and concern from before. “Man, I’m glad I waited.  _That_  could’ve been awkward.”

“Wait, when did  _you_  start having these feelings?” Winter crossed her arms over her chest, a little annoyed that she seemed to be the one slow on the uptake.

“Eh, six months? Give or take?” She shrugged. “I dunno. After a few months of living together, it just started feeling weird to go out on dates. Like, I immediately had no interest the moment they did something that wasn’t like you. So, I just, ya know, stopped. Figured it’d either work out or pass.”

“And you remained silent this whole time because…?”

“What, was I supposed to tell you ‘hey, since you’re Winter, can I be your permanent space heater’ and expect _that_ to work?”

“It very well might’ve, now that you mention it,” she replied, rubbing a hand at her temple. “We’re  _both_  too tired for this.” She held up both hands. “Here’s a plan: we go to bed now and, on our run in the morning, we can talk about this.”

Yang smiled. “Yeah! Okay! Works for me!”

“I’m glad you’re so agreeable.” She turned, preparing to head for her room before she stopped.

Should she?

May as well.

“Uh, Winter?”

“One more thing,” she said, turning back and lightly grabbing the other woman’s chin, guiding her into a proper but rather chaste kiss. When she pulled back, she offered a smirk. “ _That_  is a goodnight kiss.”

“I’ll, uh, keep that in mind.” Yang looked back at her with the goofiest grin. “Night, Winter.”

“Goodnight, Yang.”

When she closed her bedroom door again, she didn’t get the sinking feeling. However, she also found it  _extremely_  hard to fall asleep. It was nice to be excited over something so potentially beautiful an she eagerly looked forward to the conversation that would come in just a few, short hours.


	7. Over a Cup

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Elderburn Week Day 3: Coffee Shop AU. I was a little liberal with that interpretation.

Yang brushed a leaf from her hair as she stepped into the little coffee shop across the street from her apartment. Unlike her sister, she didn’t really like caffeinated beverages all that much, but this little shop also had a  _really_  delicious line of muffins and a special protein shake that she would actually consider killing for, if she was completely honest. After busting her butt for an hour at the gym around the corner, nothing felt quite as good as sitting outside on the patio, letting her hair air dry as she enjoyed her reward before heading back to her apartment. Aside from the chance to people watch and enjoy the outdoors, it gave her some much needed time to clear her mind.

About three years ago, her sister posted a video online, one taken very sneakily from the door of her bedroom as Yang raged over a lopsided multiplayer match in a first person shooter game. Between the two of them, Ruby had more technical proficiency in video games overall, but her elder sister could be stubborn and  _very_  creative when it came to coming up with ways of venting her frustration. Apparently, that combination appealed to many people and, before they really knew it, the sisters had a thriving gaming channel. Sometimes, it was Yang raging over a game or Ruby doing a speed run, and they’d even gotten to a point where they had reviews and demos and the like. On the upside: a steady gig they both enjoyed. Downside though? A  _lot_  of time spent indoors, which sometimes chaffed at the elder of the two. Given something to fiddle with, Ruby could stay inside for days, but Yang absolutely  _needed_  a breath of fresh air, hence her morning trips to the gym and the coffee house before heading back to the apartment and sitting down to record for a few hours.

Heading up to the counter, she checked her watch and grinned a little wider when the door chimed behind her, a sure sign that the woman who seemed to have a similar morning schedule had arrived right on time.

At first, Yang hadn’t noticed. More interested in her reward, she hadn’t thought to notice who ordered after her, but after a month or two, it occurred to her that the same voice placed the same order almost every day, and she’d snuck a few peeks at who seemed to always be behind her in line. The woman was tall, probably a little older than herself with white hair pulled into a tight bun and sharp blue eyes, always dressed in a crisp suit of white or some shade of blue, and ordered a grande mocha latte with an extra shot of espresso to go every day in a crisp, precise tone that brooked no room for argument. If Yang had to guess, she probably worked as a lawyer or an executive at some big name company, because for as often as they both frequented the coffee shop, she couldn’t be convinced that she’d ever seen the woman wear the same suit twice, and they definitely didn’t look like the bargain ones the sisters would occasionally wear to online media conventions and the like.

But aside from all that, she’d taken notice of one aspect in particular: the woman was drop dead  _gorgeous_. Like, ethereal beauty wrapped in a satin glove, or one of those famous depictions of an ancient Goddess, maybe even a Maiden herself.

Yang hadn’t done anything with the information, though. A pretty lady stands behind her in line every day. What, was she supposed to turn around and strike up a conversation?

… actually, that sounded like a neat idea. Worst that could happen would be a few awkwardly exchanged lines and an uncomfortable silence, then they could go back to just standing in line together tomorrow like nothing happened. 

Turning around, Yang prepared to deliver the best pick-up line she could, about to let it fly from her tongue when she stopped short. Behind her stood  _not_  a tall woman with piercing blue eyes and a resting bitch face but a dude about her height with shaggy grey hair and a raised brow.

“What? I got something on my face?”

“Nah, man,” she said, laughing lightly. “Just wanted to say that’s a killer hoodie.”

The men looked down and then smiled. “Hey, thanks. Got it from that thrift shop down the street.”

“It looks good on you,” she replied, turning back forward and thankful that the heat didn’t start rising in her cheeks until  _after_  she’d faced the counter again. Of  _course_  the one morning she decided to try striking up a conversation with the woman, she wouldn’t be there. Typical Xiao Long luck at work, she thought to herself as a self depreciating smile claimed her lips. Ah, well. Regardless of her lack of initiating a conversation with the person she wanted to, Yang proceeded to wait her turn and order her usual muffin and protein shake as always, waiting by the counter afterward and glancing at the door occasionally. The woman had to be coming through soon, probably just running a little late. It happened to everyone, so why not her?

When her order came up, she grabbed it and pushed her way outside, claiming one of the patio tables and sitting down in one of two chairs. In a matter of two minutes, she’d demolished the muffin and sat there, sipping on her shake while taking surreptitious glances up and down the street. Considering their orders were usually ready around the same time, Yang had noticed that she often got into a sleek looking white coupe, occasionally a silver one, and even a blue one every now and again. All of them looked expensive as hell and she mentally chastised herself for actually thinking she could start up a conversation with someone who probably made her yearly income in a manner of weeks.

But… by the time she’d finished her shake, the woman hadn’t arrived. Must’ve been running  _really_  late, which had to suck- even if she didn’t keep herself on as strict a schedule as the majority of the world, she still had deadlines.

Tapping her finger against the empty cup, Yang came to a decision. It probably wouldn’t amount to anything but it would be a nice gesture all the same. So she walked back into the coffee shop and waited in line again, getting up to the counter and giving the slightly surprised barista the order.

“A grande mocha latte with an extra shot of espresso, please,” she said, smiling wide. “Uh, to-go.”

The barista smirked, amusement shining in amber eyes. “People take days off, you know.”

… okay, she really didn’t expect to be found out  _that_  quickly. “Well, I mean,  _yeah_ , but if she’s just running late, it’d be nice to help her out.”

The woman on the other side of the counter- her nametag read ‘Blake’, which was probably her name- chuckled, though she tapped in the order all the same. “Are you really expecting a date out of this?”

“No. Honestly, I’ll take a ‘thank you’.” Yang shrugged. “Look, if  _I_  was running so far behind that I had the option between ducking in for my morning bright spot or getting to where I need to be, I’d like for some stranger to take pity on me and stand by the curb with a coffee.”

“And if she bypasses the place completely?”

“It’s the thought that counts?” She shrugged, pulling out her cash while the barista went about making the order. “That’s gotta earn me a little karma, right?”

Blake nodded. “You know, it just might.”

As she stepped aside to await the cup, Yang shot off a text to her sister, letting her know that she wouldn’t be back for a little while. With a rough guess, she figured twenty minutes- or, she supposed, however long it took for the coffee to become too cold to be drinkable- wouldn’t be  _that_  much of a delay, and all they were doing today would be editing and such. 

A few minutes later, Yang went back outside to her little table and waited, the cup sitting in front of her. It wasn’t cold enough yet in the year for steam but the brisk wind did send a shiver down her spine. She preferred warmer weather, honestly, and would probably retreat to inside the shop in about a month or so. For now, she could enjoy it.

After about five minutes of waiting, a sleek white coupe pulled up and some part of Yang couldn’t believe it, sitting forward in her seat slightly.

It suddenly occurred to her that she hadn’t thought of what to say.

Shit.

Go with straight to the point, that usually worked out pretty well for her.

Standing up as she saw the woman she was waiting for exit the parked vehicle, Yang grabbed the cup and took a few steps towards her, clearing her throat.

“Uh, Miss? Here, I got you your coffee. Just how you like it.” Welp, that made her sound like a creeper. “I, uh, kinda picked up on it, since you always order after me. Anyway, figured it’d help out if you didn’t have to wait for your order, since you’re running late and all.” She paused, noting the woman had just stared at her thus far. “But… if you’d rather not… accept coffee from a total stranger, ya know, I  _totally_ get it-”

“How long have you been waiting?” The woman’s voice held a healthy amount of skepticism… but not much ‘fuck off’ and at least a  _little bit_  of genuine curiosity. 

“About five minutes,” she replied, doing her best not to buckle under the woman’s sharp gaze. “I figured, ya know, you probably stopped here because it’s on your way to work, and if I just gave it a little time, you’d swing by. I mean, if you really wanted coffee this morning.” 

With narrowed eyes, the woman accepted the cup… and then brushed past her into the coffee shop anyway.

Yang’s shoulders fell, a frown turning the corners of her lips down.

Well.. she’d  _tried_ , at least. Probably wouldn’t be able to look the woman in the eyes ever again but… hey, it wasn’t like they’d had any interaction prior to this.

She probably should just walk across the street and go home. Considering how awkward just giving the woman coffee was, sitting at a table when she came back out would probably be ten times worse… but at the same time, she really didn’t want to walk into the apartment and be confronted with her sister’s perpetual cheer  _just_  yet.

So she went back to her little table and sat down, lolling her head back and closing her eyes. Maybe if she just feigned being lost in her own world, she could avoid any further awkwardness.

A few customers came and went from the coffee shop and just as she prepared to get up and start her day, someone cleared their throat.

“Is this seat taken?”

Lilac eyes opened wide, surprised to find the woman standing beside the table carrying what appeared to be the same cup she’d given her… plus another. “Huh?” Blue eyes fell on the vacant seat. “Oh! No, go for it! Have a seat!” Sitting up properly, Yang watched as the new cup was set in front of her and the woman gracefully lowered herself into the extra chair. “I, uh, kinda thought, ya know, you’d head out… pretty immediately.”

“Today’s my day off,” she said, taking a sip- and, from how far back she tipped the cup, it certainly wasn’t her first.

“Uh… really?” Although it probably wasn’t entirely polite, her gaze flicked over the woman’s form. With a crisp suit and the tight bun, it… really didn’t seem that way. “You, uh, look like you do every day. No offense.”

“What’s wrong with that?” White brows furrowed, and it kinda looked like the woman was pouting just a little. Okay ‘pouting’ wasn’t the right word; she just seemed genuinely confused by the words. “Should I not look presentable when I go out in public?”

“I mean, yeah, sure, if that’ what you want.” Yang tilted her head slightly. “But doesn’t it hurt, having your hair pulled up like that all the time?”

“Isn’t it frustrating, having the wind always blowing your hair everywhere?”

She laughed, caught a little off guard by the quick retort. “Well, fair enough. Things  _can_  get pretty hairy on a windy day.” Yang’s lips pulled into a slightly wider smile at the woman’s unexpected chuckle, an idea coming to her. “But, check this out!” She reached into the pocket of her jeans, pulling out the hair tie she used in the gym. It was still a little damp from sweat but worked to pull her bountiful mane up into a messy ponytail. Once finished, she flashed a smile. “See? I can change things up.”

The woman watched her for a moment before reaching up to pull out some unseen pin- and she almost couldn’t believe it was  _that_  easy- which allowed her bun to to come undone, a shake of her head sending long white waves cascading over her shoulders. “There. Now are you willing to believe me?”

“Uh huh,” she replied a little dumbly, surprised at how much less severe the woman’s countenance appeared now that she had her hair down. “I’m, uh, Yang, by the way. Yang Xiao Long.”

“A pleasure to meet you,” the woman replied, offering her hand. “My name is Winter Schnee. And, if you’re willing to try it, I think you might rather like that.” Her gaze darted down to the untouched coffee cup. “It’s chai tea. Not heavy on the caffeine but a good flavor.”

“Huh. Alright, I’ve got some time to kill.” She reached over and picked up the cup. “So… what is it you do? If you don’t mind the question, of course.”

Ruby called her an hour later, wondering what held her up- not upset, of course, but just unused to her sister getting so thoroughly distracted- and Yang blushed a little at the realization that they’d gotten so caught up in chatting, she hadn’t even noticed how long ago they’d finished their drinks. When she hung up, promising she’d be there soon, Winter offered an apology that didn’t sound quite sincere.

“I didn’t mean to keep you from anything important.”

“Nah, it’s fine.” She drummed her fingers against the table. “Ya know, I’d ask for us to chat in the mornings more often, but you seem pretty busy-”

“Honestly, I arrived about an hour and a half early for work every day,” the other woman said, a smile curling her lips. “I think I can spare half an hour here and there.”

“Well, alright then.” Yang chuckled. “It’s a date!”

“And one I look forward to.” 


	8. Whatever Form You Take

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Based on an idea by Keena-Kapu on the Elderburnin' server! Genderfluid!Yang and Trans!Winter AU.

It started out innocuous enough. After the war with Salem wrapped up, there were plenty of places in Remnant which needed help, and Winter gladly went where she could to provide assistance. In the process, she spent more time with her sister, and her sister’s new friends- her newfound family. Ruby- the team leader, the optimist, the sweet summer child- had the sort of cheer that could be infectious but also grating on the nerves after long exposure. Blake- the penitent one, the lost traveler finding her way out of the woods, the brooding shadow- possessed the sort of will forged from broken iron, hammered into a new shape by countless mishaps and always a bit too close to another for comfort, but with a soft side that seemed to come out whenever Weiss was near. Yang- the raging inferno, the patient supportive foundation, the perpetual best friend- carried herself like she’d tripped and fallen and stumbled hundreds of times and knew the ground could give out at any second but trudged on regardless with relentless persistence. She did it with a smile, sure, but behind that lurked something a little darker, a shadow that preyed on the edges of her mind.

That’s what drew her in, first; she recognized that shadow- or thought she did, at any rate. Although she’d made fantastic strides in accepting and utilizing her prosthetic as naturally as her other arm, there were still moments where her left hand would twitch and tremble, when her right would grip too hard or soft, when exhaustion or some other manner of distraction allowed her to lapse into habits that were eighteen years in the making before abruptly being ended. On occasion, she also had dark circles under her eyes, as if she hadn’t slept- nightmares plaguing her whenever the smell of blood sat too heavily in the air.

Winter did her best to help. Yang meant a lot to Weiss, and thus a lot to her… until her friendship with Weiss became the secondary tie they shared. The elder sister found herself falling in love with Yang’s stubbornness, with her sheer determination, with her staunch loyalty and the way her faults just made those qualities shine brighter. She watched as Yang dug deep within her heart to accept Blake’s apology and truly forgive her, as she weathered dark mutterings regarding the televised events of the Vytal Festival, and as she worked harder than anyone to set the world right, rarely asking for help and assuring Ruby she could handle any task thrown her way.

Luckily, Yang seemed to find something in her, too. As they wrapped up aiding Remnant’s recovery, the whole lot returned to Vale to rebuild Beacon to its former glory, and they had some downtime to explore. Not only a city reborn but each other, over large dinners with the others and then through smaller meetings with just the two of them. They became comfortable and, ultimately, Winter posed the question she’d been contemplating for a week: should they try dating.

In the next moment, she saw Yang’s entire being light up brighter than ever before, and for the first time in a few years, she had a girlfriend. Everything seemed to be going perfectly.

But then she started… noticing things. As the reconstruction of Beacon finished up, they had less to do, aside from formal events to celebrate and reforge bonds between the kingdoms. As those directly involved in the conflicts, who better to oversee the process? And with Blake as the daughter of Menagerie’s current Chieftain and the original founder of the White Fang, it proved to be the perfect time to enact wide sweeping changes across all of Remnant. Weiss and Blake took to the task with vigor and Ruby offered what she could in terms of support.

Yang, on the other hand… half the time, she looked perfectly at ease. Chatting with a pleasant little smile on her lips, turning phrases with expert grace- even if they usually ended in puns, which brought groans and eye rolls from others, they made Winter laugh- and cutting through tension like a hot knife through butter. Almost as if she belonged there.

The other times, however… no one else seemed to find anything remiss. She still smiled and chatted and joked, but Winter had caught the little fidgeting motions- her dress didn’t sit the way she wanted, her bra, the heels she wore hurt- and the occasional, brief frown and pinched brow, as if she was only putting up with the whole affair. A moment’s delay in a response, as if biting back something else.

At first, she chalked it up to fatigue- even one born among such repetitious and extravagant parties would ultimately chaff at it- but she’d started to discount that theory as it occurred to her it didn’t  _just_ happen when they were at those formal affairs. Sometimes, they’d be at Yang’s apartment closer to the new Beacon grounds or at Winter’s down by the docks, and the motions would resurface, the expressions, and a sincere assurance that the woman’s presence wasn’t bothering her in the slightest, Yang enjoyed her company, she wouldn’t dream of chasing her off.

The concerns persisted, though. Even as Winter climbed the steps to Yang’s apartment, key in one hand and a bottle of wine in the other, she worried something was troubling her girlfriend and she needed to get to the bottom of it. A bouquet of snapdragons and lilies rested in the crook of her elbow and, if she’d timed it right, she’d be slipping in just as her girlfriend began cooking dinner- something she loved to do most of the time. An offer to help might give them both tasks to focus on while she tried broaching the subject.

However, as she drew closer to the door, she could hear… what sounded like talking. Actually, more like shouting, varying from sharp bursts of anger to longer, gloating laughter, but all at a pitch much lower than Yang’s voice. Yet, coming from inside  _her_ apartment.

Perhaps she had a friend over? What was his name… Sun? Neptune? There were others who’d helped fight and many of them Yang considered friends; perhaps she’d opted to entertain guests seeing as Winter wasn’t due back from Atlas until tomorrow.

It might be best to come back later… then again, stopping by to let her girlfriend know she’d gotten back a day earlier than planned would be rather nice. Just poking her head in, leaving the wine and flowers, and allowing Yang to return to her plans- maybe she could get a kiss before heading back to her apartment.

Sliding the key into the lock, Winter opened the door, now able to clearly hear every shouted word as the TV blared with half a dozen sounds that were just fake enough not to elicit a reaction but clearly mimicking the hail of gunfire and dying cries of beowolves and ursa.

“He’s on the right, the right-  _your other right!_ ” The voice- deeper, frustrated at present, certainly seemed familiar, but she couldn’t put a face to the sound nor a name. With furrowed brow, she continued into the living room, coming to a dead stop in the entryway. “Dude,  _come on_ , would you-”

Lilac eyes must’ve caught movement, flashing her way for a moment before they went wide and returned, the game on the screen completely forgotten as Yang’s mouth fell open. A half eaten ready meal sat on the coffee table next to two empty beer bottles and a third almost halfway gone. Blonde hair was gathered back into a low ponytail at the nape of Yang’s neck, dark jeans of a much different cut than she usually wore covered her legs, and a black tank top put toned arms on display… but it also made it rather obvious that she wore something beneath it- not a bra, certainly, as her chest seemed to be… a bit more… flat seemed to be the only accurate descriptor.

If Winter really had to put a word to it, Yang looked a lot more masculine than usual.

“Uh…” Panic flashed in lilac eyes. “I, uh, I gotta go, guys.” The pitch varied, going between the deeper tenor she’d heard on her approach to the living room and something much closer to the speaking voice Winter had become familiar with. “N-no- I just, I gotta go.”

With a sharp tug, the jack connecting headset and controller was yanked out of its port, allowing voices to come through the television speakers.

“Aaaand, he disconnected his headset, great.”

With a curse, Yang tried to exit out of the game, which seemed independent of the voices.

“What’s with him? He usually doesn’t bail on us like that.”

“How’re we supposed to beat this level now? He was our best tank!”

Another curse.

“Maybe it’s his mythical girlfriend-”

Finally, silence filled the room as Yang exited out to the home screen on the gaming system, staring at the screen while obviously trying to find some way to explain the situation.

“I-I was going to tell you.” The words came out stilted, shifting back to the pitch she usually associated with the blonde. “It just… never seemed like the right time. But I- I was going to tell you… that I’m…”

Silence stretched between them until Winter gently broke it, a pain gripping her heart. “That you’re… what? Considering transitioning?”

“What?” Yang’s brows furrowed for a moment before realization dawned. “No! No no no, I mean- no, I’m not- I don’t want to- I just…”

Well… that wasn’t exactly an  _encouraging_ reaction, but she kept her expression smooth regardless, watching as the blonde metaphorically flailed, trying to grasp the right words.

“Look, there are some days… some days when I feel very… femme.” Yang made a vague gesture. “I mean- I can wear dresses and heels and feel pretty, I have boobs and I love ‘em, and I don’t mind being viewed as a woman… but then there are other days where I just…  _really_ hate it.” Lilac eyes moved away, focusing on the nearly empty beer bottle instead. “There are days like- like today where I… I feel masculine, and I want to kick back in my boxers and watch sports and yell at the TV, or- or play video games all day and drink beer. A-and then there are other days when I… just don’t feel either- I  _feel_  like neither, something else.” Blunted fingernails came up to scratch at the hollow of the blonde’s jaw and it suddenly occurred to Winter why those press on french tips might be so appealing. “It’s- it’s called being genderfluid. I don’t- I don’t wanna  _transition_ , but I change how I represent my gender based on how I feel.”

She waited, expecting for more to come, but when lilac eyes flashed her way, she realized all too late her mistake.

“You… you don’t approve. I don’t blame you-”

“Don’t put words in my mouth,” Winter replied, trying to soften her tone to offset the abruptness. When Yang looked her way, she offered a small smile. “Do you… have time for a story?”

“Uh, sure?”

With a nod, she set the flowers and wine down on the coffee table, straightening out her jacket to buy herself some time. She’d never spoken the words out loud before but she knew every detail by heart… and perhaps saying them was long overdue.

“My father’s a terrible human being, you know,” she said, admittedly distracted by some residual anger clinging to her soul. “Growing up, he had very strict expectations of me. He wanted an heir fit to assume his position and he felt the only way to do that was to make me exactly like him.” She made a few gestures with her hands- small, controlled ones, not wanting to let her anger get the better of her. “So he pushed me. I had to act like him, talk like him, dress like him. For a while… I was the perfect heir, playing exactly the part expected of me. But it was only so I could get what  _I_  wanted.” She turned her head away and paced, unsure if she could watch the blonde’s expressions while connecting the dots. “I realized early on that I wasn’t like my father- or Whitley, after he was born. I didn’t feel right- and not just because the words coming from my mouth weren’t my own. It went deeper than that.” She stopped, back turned towards Yang. “For years, I siphoned away lien from the funds he provided me. A little bit, week by week, but at the end, more than enough for what I wanted. When I was eighteen, I saw a doctor and began hormone therapy. Grew my hair longer, and became very adept at providing excuses for the pitch of my voice, my strange appetite, my disappearing at a specific time every day. Weiss was fourteen- I trained her in secret, gave her the tools she’d need to leave that horrid place, because while Whitley and I were in father’s good graces through the virtue of being born like him, Weiss… wasn’t, and she suffered for it.” Slowly, she turned back to see shock and a heartbreaking sort of empathy in Yang’s expression, shoulders slumped. “I could’ve been more subtle, in the end. I could’ve waited, could’ve done more to avoid the inevitable fall out. But the moment the doctors gave me the green light, I had top surgery. I didn’t need to do it that way- but, at the same time, I did. For  _my_ sake, I needed it, and damn the consequences.” Subconsciously, she reached up and traced the scar on her left side through the cloth. Sometimes, she’d catch sight of them in the mirror after a shower, and the niggling doubts would resurface briefly before she forcefully stamped them out. “Father was livid. He disowned me- he might’ve killed me, if he thought he could get away with it- and revoked my heir status. In the end, General Ironwood saved me, and Weiss. It’s a debt I can never repay.”

“How?” Genuine curiosity- not horror or disgust, which she took to be a good sign.

“By publicly praising my transition and crediting my upbringing with instilling within me the sort of courage necessary for people living in this day and age- made spectacle of how Schnees could be more than the financial backbone of Atlas but true heroes- soldiers and huntresses. It forced my father not to officially disown me, because how could he face the public backlash after Ironwood had endorsed me? And how could he keep Weiss from Combat School when over half the country thought we could be their salvation?” She let out a bitter chuckle. “It’s ironic, isn’t it? That the very social moores that had stifled me for so long could also be my saving grace.” She shrugged inelegantly, somewhat at a loss for what to say next. “So now, here I am. That’s how I came to be the woman standing before you… and it’s why I say this.” Walking over to the couch, she sat down- far enough so Yang wouldn’t feel crowded, but within arms’ reach. “I don’t know what you’re feeling; our experiences are very different, but we share some common threads. So, please, believe me when I say that I am  _sincerely_ disappointed in myself for not addressing this with you earlier, for not picking up on the signs. I’m sorry for every time I’ve called you the wrong thing; it must’ve hurt you, and it’s my fault for not realizing that sooner.”

“You couldn’t have known,” Yang said, tentatively reaching out to lightly grasp her hand. “I- I’m really good at hiding, when I wanna be. I mean, Ruby only found out two years ago, and she’s  _lived_ with me almost all my life.” A pause, a bitten lip. “But… is ‘Winter’ your…”

“I elected to retain my name through my transition.” She smirked. “I like to think of it as claiming it, making it my own, and depriving my father of yet another of his possessions. I know it drove him insane being forced to address me by the name  _he_ picked out, knowing it now applied to a daughter, not a son.” Squeezing the hand in hers, Winter tilted her head. “But that was my decision. What about you? Do you go by different names?”

“I, uh, I haven’t… really had the chance?” Yang chuckled, shaking head sending blonde locks falling from the low ponytail. “I… don’t go out very often on my non-femme days. When I do, and someone asks me my name, I usually panic and just say ‘Yang’ out of habit.”

“It’s an option to consider, but you needn’t make any decisions now.” Winter felt a bit of relief flood through her at the way Yang seemed to be relaxing, reverting to a more laid back posture. “Am I correct in thinking today might be a masculine day for you?”

“Uh, yeah, I- I have a system.” He pointed towards his hair. “I just- usually, I like wearing my hair down or in a cute style on femme days, and back in a ponytail or braid on masc days. And on the other days- the non-binary ones, I like wearing beanies or hats. I figured, ya know, that might be a pretty easy way to tell.” For a moment, he bit his lip, squirming in his seat. “Is… it okay if I… um, my voice is-”

“Do what you must to feel comfortable, Yang,” she said, scooting closer and leaning against her boyfriend’s side, opting to reassure him in whatever way existed to her. “For one, because this is  _your_ apartment, and for another, because I want you to be happy.”

“Thanks.” He replied, clearing his throat and speaking, his voice dropping with every word. “It took years to train my voice to do this, ya know, and I’m always so scared someone would be able to tell. But it’s- it’s not like- I dunno.”

“It’s not like you’re trying to hurt anyone; you’re just trying to be you.” Winter leaned their heads together. “I understand. But Vale is much more accepting, and you needn’t worry about the opinions of stuffy old curmudgeons like my father. They only scream so loud because they know in their very soul they’re wrong, and it’s all they can do before the end comes- make noise.”

“How do you do that?” Yang smiled wide, sitting up a little straighter as everything weighing him down since she’d entered the room slid away. “How do you so effortlessly and flawlessly eviscerate people with words alone?”

“Years of practice, a lot of anger, and only a few outlets to vent it through,” she replied, chuckling at her boyfriend’s full bellied laugh. “By the way, now that I’m thinking about it, I thought you hate those frozen dinner plates.”

“Huh?” He glanced at the coffee table and cringed. “Oh, right. Okay, I  _know_ this is going to sound dumb, but it’s kinda like… guys don’t usually cook, right?” Yang made a vague gesture towards the entertainment center. “I mean, this is the bachelor life, right? Drinking beer, playing video games, eating terrible frozen dinners- that’s the stereotype.” He paused, turning his head towards her and whispering. “Honestly, I hate that part of masc days.”

Winter couldn’t help but laugh, squeezing the hand in hers. “Okay, I understand where you’re coming from, because for the first week after being discharged from the hospital, I wore bras and dresses as much as I could, medical advice be damned.”

“Really?” Yang tilted his head. “But I thought you don’t like dresses.”

“You’re absolutely right, I don’t, but  _I could wear them_.” She shook her head. “I’m not sure if everyone goes through that phase, where it feels like conforming to stereotypical constructs of what it is to be a ‘man’ or a ‘woman’ is paradoxically liberating, given the freedom to indulge unabashedly in all the things that were denied us, but I certainly went through it; I got my fingernails painted every week, I did all sorts of things with my hair- I’m quite certain I overloaded Weiss with updates on the little tweaks to my appearance I’d made in those first few months.” Winter sighed. “But then, when enough people recognized me as a woman without me having to perform all those stereotypes ad nauseum… I had the opportunity to find what  _I_  liked, and I kept what I did and discarded what I didn’t. I don’t like dresses but a modest heel on boots appeals to me. Very light make-up, but I love accenting my bust, which I’m sure you’ve noticed.”

“I have,” he replied immediately, prompting both of them to laugh. “I guess I never thought about it like that. Because, ya know, I like cooking.  _I_  do, it doesn’t matter how I’m feeling gender-wise.”

“Then cook.” With a shrug, she made a gesture towards the television. “And if your friends try to make you feel like it’s unmanly to cook for yourself, remind them that in an apocalypse situation where microwaves don’t work, they’ll be stuck eating cold ramen while you prepare a three course dinner.”

With another laugh, he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her into his lap, a nice little change of pace from usual- ah, no, not ‘usual’, because Yang had hidden parts away. They would need to relearn some things, together, before they had a ‘usual’ again, but Winter didn’t mind. If anything, it seemed Yang was a bit more aggressive in his amorous pursuits on masc days, as evidenced by the lips pressing kisses just beneath her ear.

“Do you count as dessert?” He smirked up at her, and she felt a little relieved puns and jokes would apparently remain a constant. “Because I could eat you up about now.”

“Tempting as that is, I may take you up on that later. For now, are you hungry? We could go out to eat.”

Yang’s expression fell a little bit, mouth opening for a moment before he thought better of it. “Are you sure?”

“Of course.” Winter leaned over and kissed his temple. “Sometimes, I have a girlfriend. Sometimes, like now, I have a boyfriend. And sometimes I have a… uh-”

“Datemate.”

“I have a datemate.” Her expression softened. “But  _all the time_ , I want to go out with  _you_ , my precious Sundrop.” She paused, considering. “Or we could order in, if you are against the idea.”

“We can go out! Um, just nowhere fancy. I… don’t really have the wardrobe for it.” He frowned. “Or-”

“Say no more; let me handle that part.” Getting up, she gestured towards the coffee table. “You may want to clean up while I assemble an outfit for you. And… hmmm, how do you feel about facial hair?”

“Uh, it’s… kinda out of the equation, Snowdrift. I don’t have any ‘mones-”

“Not what I was asking.”

“I mean… I always kinda thought I would look good with a goatee?”

“Excellent.” She continued towards the bedroom, going to the closet and rifling through until she found what she was looking for- a nice button up with short sleeves that had hung awkwardly on Yang’s frame while she had an impressive bust to consider. Now that the binder he wore had flattened it out some, it would look  _much_  better, and certainly up to standard for a simple trip to the fast food place five blocks over- a safe bet to be in public without drawing too much unwanted attention. They had another location just on the other side of Yang’s apartment, so neither of them had much reason to go to the that one, and the caution would likely put him at ease. Before heading back to the living room, she swung by the bathroom and snagged some of Yang’s make-up supplies. “That should do it.”

“Should do what?” He raised a brow before worriedly eyeing her armful. “Uh, Snowdrift-”

“Trust me,” she said, setting the various bottles and brushes down on the coffee table and climbing into Yang’s lap, pressing a kiss to his jaw. “I know a thing or two about contouring.”

“Contouring?” Even on femme days, Yang didn’t often indulge in much past a little foundation, if that. Yet, she had entire, untouched kits- presents bought by clueless others who figured any gal would like any make-up. A small, belated blessing, she supposed. “What’s that?”

“It’s where I rearrange the bones in your face through magic.” Winter looked him over for a moment before nodding, reaching back to grab the foundation first, to prevent irritation. “Don’t spread this secret around, though; someone might tell the church.”

“Well, wouldn’t want that, now would we?” He chuckled, falling silent as she got to work and resting his hands on her hips.

Although he didn’t exactly appreciate being blasted in the face with hairspray, he didn’t stop her, instead rolling his eyes and letting her first bring out the masculine features in his face, darkening his eyebrows and making his jaw seem more solid, stronger, and then she moved on to carefully applying a light blonde mascara around his mouth, sealing it again with hairspray.

“There.” She drew back, inspected her work, and then nodded, climbing off his lap and directing him towards the bedroom. “I laid out a shirt for you. Put it on, and we’ll go get some  _real_ food.”

“Hey, what I cook is ‘real’ food.” He chuckled, throwing a smirk over his shoulder. “I know it can be a little hard to swallow, but I’m the best cook in Vale!”

“Aside from Ren.”

“He doesn’t count; he’s in Vacuo this week.”

“Ah.” She chuckled, watching him disappear into the bedroom and mentally counting down the seconds. When no noise came forth, and no boyfriend, Winter proceeded into the room, leaning back against the doorjam and watching as he stared, slack jawed, at his reflection in the little mirror hanging above his dresser, shirt only pulled over one shoulder. “I take it you like it?”

“Like it?” He turned to look at her, happy tears shining in his eyes as he smiled wider than she’d seen in weeks. “Snowdrift, I  _love_ it. Where did you even learn this magic?”

“I had to figure out how to fake a five o'clock shadow.” Winter shrugged, blinking and nearly caught off guard as Yang closed the distance, scooping her up into his arms, his shirt still only half pulled on properly. “Hey!”

Any objection she might’ve had- which, honestly, she just wanted an explanation- died when lips pressed against hers, and she fleetingly acknowledged she would have to acclimate to the sensation of something scratching her chin while falling into a dance they’d done hundreds of times and hadn’t changed at all, despite everything else that had.

“I love you, Snowdrift. Winter.” He whispered the words when they broke apart but they were strong, just as strong as the arms holding her, lilac eyes shining with absolute adoration. “I  _love_ you.”

“And I love you, my sweet Sundrop.” She stole another kiss from his lips. “No matter what form you take.”

He looked like an absolute love struck fool just then and Winter could honestly say he wore the expression rather well. Pulling away just enough, he offered his arm. “C’mon. I’m dying to go out with the prettiest lady in all of Remnant.”

She smiled, slipping her arm through his. “My my, what a charming gentleman, but I do question  _how_  you could make so bold a claim. Have you seen all the ladies in Remnant?”

“I’ve only got eyes for you, Snowdrift.” He leaned up and brushed a kiss against her cheek. “So, as far as I’m concerned, yeah. I have.”

She chuckled, finding it hard to argue with his logic.


	9. Rough  Edges

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the request: fake relationship with extra bed sharing, switch out the fluff for hurt/comfort, side of extra buff muscle goddess who is so sweet and gentle it hurts. By Moonwatcher13.

Yang drew in a deep breath and let it out, bending over the sink to splash some water on her face. When she originally put the ad in the paper offering to pose as someone’s girlfriend, she’d expected some poor bastard with a bad temper or just a creepy misunderstanding of how to display affection- someone who might be able to get a date but probably _shouldn’t_ be in a relationship. She expected a few hours of acting nauseatingly sweet, a free meal, and way too many relatives asking far too many invasive questions. It wasn’t the  _ideal_  way to spend her New Year’s Eve, of course, but with Ruby pursuing her post grad degree, Dad off supervising Signal, and most of her friends with their own families, she didn’t really have anyone else to turn to, and she didn’t want to spend the holiday alone. Putting an ad in Vale’s paper seemed like a way to make back some of the money she spent coming out here rather than staying on Patch.

But, the best laid plans, right? Not only had her expectations been absolutely shattered, now she’d landed herself in… well, it wasn’t a  _terrible_  situation. All things considered, she actually kinda liked it, because it definitely beat out what she’d anticipated, if solely because she’d actually  _enjoyed_  her night thus far. Being on the arm of an attractive woman with a sharp wit definitely beat out a dude with a bad attitude, and being given free reign to act like a complete  _ass_  to scandalize the other party goers qualified as a helluva good time in her book. Her date for the night even actively encouraged it, and the woman’s younger sister seemed to exacerbate the problem as often as possible, with a date of her own that sent ripples of anxiety through the stuffy brats masquerading as well-to-do adults. Really, Yang had thought they’d moved past the days where a human and Faunus dating would raise a brow, but she’d been proven wrong a few times over during the night, and took  _immense_  pleasure in ridiculing those reactions to the utmost degree.

Yang checked herself over in the mirror. She’d already taken off her beat up leather jacket, leaving her in just a tanktop splotched with oil, well defined arms on full display covered in intricate tattoos, a golden dragon curling around her right bicep and breathing fire down her arm while her left had interwoven bouquets of red and white roses. Her blonde hair- wild and untamed as ever- fell around her shoulders, that stubborn cowlick she could never get rid of poking up over the top of her head. Her jeans sat low on her hips- patched in places, with a few chains attached to her belt loops and one going to her wallet- and she’d already taken off her heavy boots, sighing as she began undoing the chains. She usually hated sleeping in her jeans but… well, she apparently didn’t have much choice in the matter.

The snow had started about three hours before midnight and, by the time they’d rung in the new year, pretty much every major road was shut down, and just trying to get the front door open on the mansion- because no matter how many comments were made about it being ‘smaller’ than the family’s Atlas home, it still counted as a fucking mansion in Yang’s book- proved to be far too difficult. With the party goers effectively snowed in, many of the guests were given rooms of their own- and it stood to reason that if there were enough bedrooms for the people attending the party to have their own, this place couldn’t qualify as ‘small’ to a sane person, seriously- but seeing as she was there as someone’s date, she was both expected to share a room  _and_  a bed with the woman who’d hired her, which…

… honestly, the jury was still out on how she felt about that part.

Because Winter Schnee, for all her cold exterior and biting words, wasn’t bad company to say the least. She had her rough spots but she adjusted quickly; it was Yang’s job to misbehave as much as possible, of course, but the moment she started feeling the slightest bit uncomfortable or ready to drop the act and throw a  _real_  punch, the woman appeared, with a hand at the small of her back and a few quick words to either soothe her temper or eviscerate her target- sometimes both.

Wrapping the chains around her hand, Yang walked back into Winter’s room, setting them down next to her wallet and scroll on the dresser. The woman had already changed into a pair of silk pajamas and was currently digging through her closet, looking for something suitable to sleep in for a person of Yang’s stature. Winter had height, yes, but not the width of the blonde’s shoulders or the girth of her arms, and they both felt confident she’d stretch out or rip just about anything handed to her.

With a huff, the woman turned away from the closet, cool blue eyes falling on Yang. “I do apologize, but I simply can’t find anything in a proper size for you.”

“That’s fine,” she replied, offering a smile. “Really, it’s no big deal.” She set her hands on her hips, looking around the room. Sparsely decorated and too damn big for one person anyway, her gaze ultimately fell on a rug by the balcony doors. “Do you have an extra blanket, though?”

“Certainly.” She pulled a pale blue sheet from the closet and motioned towards the bed. “Though, I assure you the comforter is rather warm.”

“Oh, I was just gonna bed down over here.” Yang walked over to the rug, kneeling down to run her hands across it. The texture wasn’t something she’d normally pick but it didn’t scratch too much and she could deal with that for a night. “I’m… sure you don’t want to share your bed with a stranger.”

“Nonsense; I’ll not have you sleeping on the floor like a dog.” Winter’s brows pinched together, looking between the sheet and the blonde before squaring her shoulders. “You’ll take the bed and I’ll sleep on the rug.”

“No, absolutely not.” She waved her hands in front of her defensively, trying to ward off any attempt to remove her from the rug. Not that the woman had made any such attempts, of course, but she _did_ prefer being proactive. “I can’t let you sleep on the floor in your own room.”

“As the host, I can’t let my guest do that.”

“But you’re paying me to be here, remember?” She shrugged. “Consider it a… workplace hazard.”

“Oh, so you make a habit of playing the role of bad girlfriend?” One pale brow arched.

A blush came to her cheeks. “N-no, honestly, I’ve never done this before! But, really, I’m not going to get a wink of sleep if you’re on the floor; it’s only going to get colder, ya know.”

“Then it seems we’re at an impasse.” Winter nodded, gesturing with the blanket in her hand. “Either we’re both sleeping in the bed or we’re both on the floor. If we sleep on the floor, neither of us is getting any rest, because I refuse to have a good night’s sleep if you’re not in the bed.”

“You drive a hard bargain, ya know that?” Yang sighed, pressing her lips into a thin line for a moment. “Alright, fine.” She stood up, holding up a finger. “Just… I’ll only get in that bed on  _one_  condition.”

“Name it.”

“If you start to feel uncomfortable, you have to tell me, and we’ll figure something else out.” Shrugging, she ran a hand through her hair. “I just don’t want you feeling like this is the  _only_ way and putting up with it for the sake of that. So, you have to promise me you’ll speak up if it bothers you.”

“Very well; I believe those are amenable terms.” The woman inclined her head, reaching up to release the severe bun her hair had been pulled into all night. The white strands spilled over her shoulders like rivulets of moonlight and the blonde quite nearly forgot how to think straight for a moment. “But the same goes for  _your_  comfort. Please, speak up if you begin feeling uncomfortable-”

A sudden, awful shuddering sound echoed from elsewhere in the house as the lights went out, distance cries of alarm rising through the house.

“Was that the power or does this place have independent generators?” Yang raised a brow.

“Both; we lost power earlier in the night and the generators kicked on;  _now_  we’ve lost the generators.” Winter sighed, then looked at the bed. “We’d best get under the covers now. The temperature will only drop as the night wears on.”

“Good idea,” she replied, going to the bedside and pulling back the covers, sliding in and wincing at how nice it felt. She’d never had sheets so soft or a mattress quite as ridiculously comfortable; she had half a mind to drop off right then and there.

But then the other side of the mattress dipped and she turned her head, watching as Winter joined her, and noting the sour turn to her lips only visible thanks to the sparse light from the balcony window. They probably should pull the curtains closed to keep out the chill, she thought idly, but it was the only light available to them.

“Are you sure you’re okay with this?” Yang turned onto her side. “It’s still not too late.”

“Why are you so concerned?” Something about the tilt of her mouth spoke volumes to the thoughts swirling in her eyes. “You needn’t make spectacle if you desire an excuse. I’m sure I can find another room in this godforsaken house-”

She frowned. “Hey, I’m not objecting to sleeping in the same bed as you, but I definitely understand if you have a problem sharing a bed with someone you don’t know.”

“You speak as if any of us can truly know another.” Winter scoffed, turning her gaze towards the ceiling. “That’s not how people work, Yang. Visages, masks- we’re all puppets in one way or another. People may become familiar with the marionette, but never the puppeteer. Eventually, you become the mask.”

“That’s not true.” Getting into a philosophical discussion in the middle of the night didn’t rank high on the list of things she wanted to do in the new year but… well, when it prompted the woman to roll onto her side so they could be face-to-face… she had to admit the benefits of the discussion weren’t lost on her. 

“If it’s not, then tell me one thing about me. About the  _real_  me.” She sighed. “Tell me so I can maybe believe that such a thing exists.” With a shake of her head, she blinked and rolled over. “The wine’s gone to my head. Forget I said that.”

Silence stretched for a moment before Yang inhaled, letting it out slowly.

“You love jazz music,” she said, laying on her back and looking up at the ceiling. “And swing dancing- you can waltz, but you like the more energetic motions that come with swing.” Tapping her fingers against her stomach, she kept listing things off, going with whatever came to mind. “You like my jokes- or just jokes in general, and you wish you could tell them, but no one here besides you and your sister have decent senses of humor anyway. You spend so much time biting your tongue, you can’t help but blurt out the few things you’re  _able_  to say, and it sounds sharp and biting to others. You don’t mean it, though. You just spend so much time wearing a muzzle, when it gets taken off, you just… snap at the wind.”

For a moment, she thought maybe Winter ignored her intentionally or had already fallen asleep, and shut her own eyes to do the same.

“Did you really just compare me to a dog?”

She cracked an eye open. “Well, in my head, I was picturing a wolf. Ya know, a lot of people think there’s such a thing as ‘lone wolves’ but… there’s actually really not.” Yang sighed. “Plenty of wolves on Patch; all of them belong to packs. Family units and such- the ones that get outcast, well, it’s not by their choice. So even though you act like you’re okay with being this… ice queen alone in your castle, staring down any who dare approach, you… really just wish someone would make you feel a little less like it’s you against the universe.” Turning her head, she watched as Winter slowly rolled over. “You didn’t hire me to annoy your dad or to embarrass the people he considers high society. You did it so you could feel like, just for a moment, you had someone completely on your side, aside from your sister. Someone who cared enough to stand beside you… even if they cared only for the paycheck at the end.”

“You’re very perceptive.” They looked at each other for a moment. “I suppose the question becomes what will you do with this knowledge.”

The blonde rolled onto her side and scooted closer, reaching out to cup Winter’s jaw. The woman’s skin felt smooth to the touch whereas her hand was roughened by callouses and cuts from years of manual labor. Slowly- giving her plenty of time and room to object- Yang leaned forward and pressed a kiss to Winter’s lips, gentle and chaste.

“I will tell you now that you are worth far more than whatever people have told you before and screw all those stuffy idiots who don’t have the good sense to recognize that.” Her fingers traced up, pushing back a few strands of moonlight hair. “There’s someone out there for you, ya know. Someone who’ll take one look at you and every day thank the stars and Maidens they have you in their life, on their side,  _by_  their side.”

“Someone. But not you.”

“C’mon,” she said, chuckling. “I don’t get  _that_  lucky. I’m just a grease monkey with a sense of humor. You can do  _way_  better.”

For a moment, she thought that was the end of it.

And then she found herself flat on her back, looking up into those cool blue eyes flashing with icy fire.

“You don’t know me as well as you think,” Winter said, hovering over her. “Else you’d know that I don’t take kindly to others determining what’s best for me.”

“I… guess that kinda  _is_  what started this whole thing off, huh?” She swallowed, heart hammering in her chest. “But, um, I- I really- I’m not as much of a complete asshole usually-”

“You haven’t truly been an asshole at all.” Her shoulders fell a little, a smile coming to her lips. “You’ve been sweet and kind to those who deserve it. You’ve been patient and understanding when even I’ve been tempted to throw a punch. More to the point: you gave me a chance you likely shouldn’t have.” Winter leaned down, drawing her into a soft kiss, and her fingers twitched with the urge to grab somewhere, slip under silk, but she resisted by the barest of margins. “So… perhaps we can amend the terms of our arrangement?”

“How’s that?” She blinked, dazed, but hanging onto every word.

“Rather than pay you the sum we agreed, how about a date?” Winter’s lips curled into a smirk. “Dinner on me.”

“I’m not sure if you’re being literal or figurative but either way my answer is yes.” Yang nodded, wrapping her arms around the woman’s waist and pulling her closer. “Now, come a little closer. You’re letting the cold air in.”

A positively wicked gleam came to the woman’s eyes then. “I suppose we should heat it up then, hmmm?”

“Hey, don’t move  _too_  fast.” She smirked. “Slow and steady wins the race, right?”

“I thought you’d be the speed demon sort, honestly.”

“Then you don’t know me all that well yet. I like things to last, if ya catch my drift.” Yang chuckled. “But I don’t mind testing the waters.”


	10. Christmas

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the prompt "Some of us have to work on the Christmas" submitted by NiceGuyAsexual.

Yang bit back a yawn, stretching her arms above her head as she sat up. The sun hadn’t risen yet but she had to be at work in an hour. It wasn’t much- a security gig for a power plant- but it paid her bills and put a little extra in the bank when she worked overtime. Not her career of choice, yet… and, well, she was working on that bit.

A pair of arms snaked around her waist, pulling her back as she tried getting out of the bed. “Where do you think you’re going?”

“To work,” she replied with a chuckle, tapping one forearm. “It’s Thursday.”

“It’s Christmas Eve.” Winter pouted- outright  _pouted_ \- and flexed her arms. “Can’t you call in sick?”

“That would be lying.” She turned, looking down at her sleepy girlfriend. 

Sometimes, she still couldn’t believe her luck; when she’d asked the woman to dance all those months ago in a run down bar on the other side of town, she’d thought the most she’d get was a few minutes of small talk and maybe a number, perhaps a date that would just highlight that they came from  _very_  different worlds. One look said that Winter had _way_ too much money to be in a dive like that and Yang half expected to get laughed away- it wasn’t the first time a yuppie decided to slum it for their own enjoyment. The woman, however, didn’t just have a silver spoon in her mouth, but dirt and rocks, too, and she swore like the sailors she served with just before exiting the service to go work in the family business.

That business just happened to be the Schnee Development Company- the largest corporation in Remnant, with claws sunk deep into every sector from construction to research and development. Hence, way too much money, but coupled with a distinct disdain for those unaccustomed to getting their hands dirty doing actual work.

The arms around her waist pulled slightly, not enough to topple her back but tempting her to do so. “But you never call in sick. What’s two days?”

“Some of us have to work on Christmas, Snowdrift.” Reluctantly, she pulled the arms away from her waist and stood up, heading towards the dresser. “That’s just how it goes.”

“You don’t  _have_  to work at all,” Winter said, sitting up and furrowing her brows. “I make more than enough to support both of us-”

“ _You_  make enough to fully clothe an orphanage, Snowdrift.” She slipped into undergarments before pulling the black undershirt over her head, reaching back to pull her hair all the way through. “It’s not  _just_  about the money. You’ve got the holidays off, but when you’re at work, I’d go stir crazy if I didn’t have something to do. And it’s more than that.” She grabbed her button up shirt, pulling it over her shoulders before turning towards the bed. “The people I work with, they have family, too, ya know. If me working on Christmas means they can spend that time with their kids, then it’s fine with me.” About halfway through buttoning her shirt, she stopped, looking back towards the bed and biting her lip. She’d thought coming to Atlas while Ruby and Dad stayed in Vale meant that she’d be on her own for holidays but… well, that wasn’t exactly true anymore. “Don’t get me wrong; I’d love to spend the holiday with you, and as soon as my shift’s over, I’m yours.” She shrugged. “But when I was a kid, my Dad had to work every holiday. He never had the chance to take it off. So if I can give someone else time with their parents, I’m going to do it. Besides, if you sleep in late enough, you probably won’t even notice I’m not there.”

Winter remained quiet, eventually sighing and laying back down, the covers pulled up to her shoulder as she turned away. “That’s impossible. I always know when you’re not by my side.”

Buttoning the shirt up to her collar, and pulling on the damn thing, Yang walked over to the bed and sat down, leaning over to catch a glimpse of her girlfriend’s face. “Don’t tell me you’re pouting again.”

“I do not pout.”

“Snowdrift.” Blue eyes glanced her way before focusing on the other side of the room. “Look, I’ll try to get New Year’s off or something, okay? And when I get off work, I’ll come straight home, and we’ll curl up on the couch and watch a movie. I’ll be home by three; it’s just an eight hour shift.”

“Right,” she replied, distractedly, but turned enough to properly look at Yang. “Make sure you take your coat, hat, and scarf today. It’s supposed to snow again.”

“Atlas and its fucking snow.” Her expression pinched together, a shiver already traveling down her spine. “Thanks for the reminder.” She leaned over, intending to press a kiss to her girlfriend’s cheek but finding lips instead, not that she was complaining.

But as she finished getting ready, Yang sensed something was… off. Winter got out of bed and pulled on a robe, walked her to the door and gave her another kiss goodbye like usual, but… it felt like she was intensely distracted by something.

They’d probably talk about it once she got back after work.

* * *

Yang pushed her way into the guard room, shaking the snow from her shoulders. On the one hand, everyone else got a white Christmas morning, but she could hardly enjoy it. After doing her best to assure Winter she’d be home at a reasonable hour on Christmas Eve, circumstances at work conspired against her. By the time she’d gotten home, her girlfriend had elected to pick up food on her way back from…  _somewhere_ , allowing them to at least make the most of their time before bed, but it wasn’t exactly reassuring given their argument that morning. 

In the back of her mind, she worried about her girlfriend. Winter had acted almost  _too_  loving since then, being sure to kiss her cheek or her lips, hell even her hand during dinner last night, but something lurked behind blue eyes. Maybe it was excitement about Christmas morning; it occurred to her, as she sat out at the guard shack at the far edge of the power plant’s property, that perhaps her girlfriend had only objected to her working on Christmas because of some special surprise being planned- which, honestly, would be funny, and she’d laugh if they happened to have the same idea.

Then she noticed the heavenly smell filling the room, gaze falling on several Tupperware containers holding all sorts of food. Her mouth immediately watered but she was stopped from taking a closer look by her supervisor.

“Hey Yang, ‘bout time you got back.” He smirked, nodding towards the phone. “Clock out and head to the front. Someone’s waiting for you.”

She raised a brow. Though she mentioned Winter often, it was never by name, because while they’d been together long enough to share a living space, her girlfriend did her best to keep the press out of their private lives. The last thing either of them wanted was people sticking their noses where it didn’t belong.

“Oh yeah? Any idea who?” Yang went over to the phone and started punching in the numbers so she could clock out, not paying attention to the automated voice on the other end of the line.

“Looks like a social worker.” He shrugged. “Nice lady. Got a couple kids with her.”

Puzzled, she hung up the phone and started heading towards the main entrance. “Thanks. Merry Christmas, Reggie.”

“Yeah, you too.”

When she got to the front, her brows furrowed as a frown came to her lips. She didn’t recognize the woman standing there, short auburn hair poking out from beneath a knitted cap, with a heavy coat and scarf wrapped around her neck, and neither did she recognize the four little kids ranging from maybe five to about twelve, by her guess, arranged around her.

“Are you Miss Xiao Long?”

“Uh, yeah, that’s me. Can I help you?” She stopped in front of them, surprised when the smallest immediately launched forward and latched onto her left leg. “Uh…”

“Thank you for writing Santa for us!” He looked up at her, eyes shining brightly. Only then did Yang notice that his clothes looked brand new, and perhaps a little big, though he’d probably grow into it rather soon. “Thank you so much!”

Now even more confused, she looked up to see the woman smiling. “Please, if you’d come with us, the rest of the children would like to thank you as well.”

“Thank me for…” She looked pleadingly at the woman, spreading her hands. “What, again? I, uh, I’m sorry, but I kinda need to get home to my girlfriend, um-”

“Oh, she’s already at the orphanage,” the woman replied. “Miss Schnee thought it would save you the trip if we caught you before you left.”

Suddenly, one of the other kids moved forward, grabbing hold of her other leg. “Please come eat with us, Miss!”

Thoroughly confused, Yang shrugged, discreetly checking her scroll and noting the message from Winter that simply said ‘I sent them’ and sighing. “I… guess. Yeah, okay. I’ll follow you over.”

Walking out the doors with two children attached to her legs wasn’t  _easy_ , mind, but she accomplished it without slipping and considered it a personal achievement.

* * *

By the time Yang pulled up to the orphanage, she’d put enough of the pieces together to not be surprised by the myriad of children running around in brand new clothing, some playing with toys while others engaged in an epic snowball fight. When she popped open the door on her truck, she stepped out onto the floor runner and rested her arms- one on the door and the other on the roof- and watched for a minute as Winter ducked and dodged the incoming barrage, the disturbed snow all around her proof she’d been playing with the children for quite a while.

Leave it to her girlfriend to take one little comment and run with it. She hadn’t offered the phrase ‘clothe an orphanage’ as a suggestion, but Winter seemed to take it as one, and added a bit to that list.

Climbing down from her truck and shutting the door, she started walking towards the battle grounds with her hands in the pockets of her jacket, the right closing around a present she’d wanted to carry on herself until she could give it to the woman, just in case.

“Yang!” Blue eyes lit up, the woman smiling bright a moment before a snowball collided with the side of her head, the children mercilessly taking advantage of her distraction. 

With her girlfriend practically buried under the onslaught, Yang let out a full bellied laugh and walked over, snow crunching underfoot until she reached Winter.

“Good to see you’re having fun.” She smiled wider. “Merry Christmas, Snowdrift.”

“Merry Christmas, Sundrop.” Brushing the snow from her face and jacket. “I thought about what you said- about being able to clothe an orphanage, and how you didn’t have the chance to spend time with your father on holidays. It occurred to me that these children probably understand that experience as well… so I opted to make their Christmas a little brighter.”

“Don’t tell me you adopted all of them.” Yang chuckled, at once not certain she’d be surprised or even bothered if her girlfriend had; it wasn’t like they particularly planned to do things in order, anyway.

“Yang, parenthood is a serious endeavor that requires more than a spur-of-the-moment consideration and off-the-cuff comment before undertaking.” Her girlfriend chided.

On a hunch, she took a step forward, wrapping one arm around Winter’s waist while the other went up to rest on her chest for a moment, lulling the woman into complacency before she pushed lightly, enough to hear the crinkle of paper beneath her jacket. “Is that so?”

“Taking a pamphlet for research purposes isn’t the same thing.”

Yang chuckled, shaking her head slightly before looking up into those blue eyes that shined brighter than any gemstone. “I love you. You know that, right?”

“I do. And I love you… though I haven’t been the best at showing it recently.” The woman sighed. “When I was a child, my father always had holidays off, purely so he could host extravagant parties and parade us around like living trophies. I always hated it.” She shrugged slightly, returning the embrace and leaning forward until their foreheads touched. “I… suppose my excitement to spend the holiday with someone I truly wished to be with for a change blinded me to the selfishness of my request.”

“I think we’re all prone to bouts of selfishness from time to time,” she replied, reaching into her pocket. “I’m definitely not immune.” As her girlfriend raised a brow, she drew the gift out from her pocket and sank down onto one knee, prying open the ring box. “See, I kinda have this thing where I want to be your one and only, for as long as we’re still kicking. So, whadd’ya say, Snowdrift? Will you marry me?”

Although surprised for a moment, a smile broke out on Winter’s face, stretching from ear to ear as she reached into her own pocket. “I think that’s amenable, but on one condition.” And, sure enough, out came a ring box as the woman knelt down as well, opening it to reveal the ring within. “I’ll say ‘yes’ if you do. You’ll be mine if I can be yours.”

She smiled. “Yeah. I think I’d like that.”

“Then yes.”

Snapping the ring box shut, Yang surged forth, bowling her new fiance over so she could kiss her properly, ignoring the varied reactions from the children and the snow they started throwing to discourage the adults from showing affection, though she eventually had to laugh because she vividly remembered her own ‘eww, gross!’ phase as a kid.

By the time they got back to their feet, they were both breathless- from kissing and laughing- but beaming all the same.

“Let’s go inside,” Winter said, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and sneaking another kiss just below her ear. “We can take off our gloves and put on our rings, then sit down to a nice meal.”

“I can’t believe you organized all this in a day,” she replied, though repaid the gesture around her fiance’s hips as they started towards the door.

“It’s like you said; I have more than enough money.” She shrugged. “It’s about time I put it to good use.”

The caretakers called for the children to start coming inside, using their new toys and some other presents yet to be opened- apparently, Winter wanted to save something for when Yang arrived- to coax the children indoors.

All in all, probably one of the best Christmases she’d ever had.


	11. Roadside Attraction

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the request: My car broke down and there's this biker who fixed it and now we're having dinner tomorrow with a side of shameless flirting and trying not to stare at each other's physique by CrimsonQrow18.

Winter cursed under her breath, pulling off to the side of the road as lights flashed on her console. She’d thought a nice drive through the countryside would  _reduce_  her stress, but now she found herself broken down at least five miles from the nearest service station. 

Shutting off the engine, she took a moment to calm herself. According to the message that flashed across just before the engine began to whine and sputter, she’d somehow forgotten to get her oil changed, leading to the stuff drying up within her engine block. From her limited mechanical knowledge, she understood that to be a very bad sign.

Before reaching for her scroll, she got out, popping open the hood and lifting it up, as if by simply looking she could will more oil into manifestation. The gentle breeze whipped at her coattail, making her wish she’d taken the time to change out of her dress uniform before leaving the court-martial, or at least taken off the outer coat. But she’d been in a hurry to distance herself from the higher ranks, not wanting to push her luck and get  _yet another_  mark against her. General Ironwood couldn’t keep sticking his neck out for her and she well knew that.

“Now what?” She grumbled, glaring down at the interior of the compartment. Despite the many assurances that she should learn, she never bothered delving into the minutia of operating her vehicle beyond  _driving_  it; she hadn’t the faintest idea where the oil stick would be, though she understood that should be the first thing she checked.

The roar of an engine coming up the road caught her attention but she didn’t bother trying to flag the person down; given her streak of luck, it would just be some greasy jerk with a gleam to his eyes she didn’t like, and she’d be back to square one.

As it approached, she registered it likely belonged to a motorcycle- obnoxiously loud- and rolled her eyes, finally figuring out that the yellow leaver with an oil can painted on it was probably what she needed. As she reached for it, the vehicle passed- a yellow and orange blur in her periphery- and a furrow came to her brows as she tugged on the handle to no avail.

Then the screech of tires on asphalt had her straightening up, looking around for the source of the noise and finding the motorcycle had skid to a stop, sideways across the lane, the rider kicking out one leg to stabilize herself. 

She didn’t know much about bikes, though she could acknowledge this one looked fast and sleek, but she knew a thing or two about people. The brown leather jacket, leather chaps, and brown boots looked like standard fare for a biker, and the yellow helmet seemed to indicate an inclination towards safety. The unruly blonde locks flowing from beneath the helmet and what looked to be a tattoo encircling her right forearm, however, spoke to a certain amount of wildness, freedom, rebellion.

Revving the engine, the biker drove onto the shoulder, heading towards Winter, and she subconsciously smoothed out her jacket and prepared herself. While dealing with a woman  _typically_  meant she didn’t have to be as on guard, she wasn’t in the habit of taking chances or giving others the benefit of the doubt…

… incidentally, that might’ve been how she’d gotten courts-martialed so many times in the first place.

Popping out the kickstand and shutting off the engine, the biker reached up and took off her helmet, shaking out her long hair and running a hand through it with a friendly little smile on her lips.

“Having some car trouble there, Ma’am?”

Two things occurred to her then. One was the standard biting nature of her demeanor, the urge to say ‘what was your first clue’ and take an aggressive posture. The other, quite simply, was that the biker was actually rather attractive.

“I believe so,” she replied, stumbling slightly for a proper response. “I’m not mechanically inclined, however.”

“Ya mind if I take a look?” She gestured towards the open hood. “I know a thing or two about cars.”

“Be my guest.” Stepping aside, she waved an arm towards the engine block. 

She watched as the biker dismounted, the shift and creak of leather- a rather form fitting outfit, and what a form it fit indeed. “Name’s Yang, by the way.”

“Winter,” she replied, quickly meeting the woman’s eyes so she wouldn’t be caught ogling the sway to her hips as the biker sauntered over.

“You, uh, heading anywhere specific?” Yang stopped setting both hands on the frame before leaning over the engine. “This could take a minute.”

“No, I was just… driving for the sake of driving.” She watched the way the blonde moved, how the dragon tattooed on her arm seemed to come alive with every flex of the muscles beneath, the way her biceps seemed to strain against the jacket’s cuff. “I find the scenery out this way pleasant.”

“Hey, me too!” The woman looked at her then with shimmering lilac eyes and she quite nearly fainted as her heart stopped. “I was out riding to clear my mind. Guess that makes us quite the pair, huh?”

“I suppose so,” she replied, discreetly shaking herself, and mentally  _slapping_  herself when her gaze drifted towards Yang’s backside while she reached into the compartment to wrestle with the oil stick. “Oh, do be careful. I’m afraid it’s stuck-”

_Pop!_

With hardly any visible effort, the biker pulled the stick free, though a frown touched her lips. “That’s not a good sign. When was your last oil change?”

“I’m… afraid I’m not sure.” She coughed into one hand. “It’s… been a busy few months.”

“I hear ya.” With a hum, she pulled the stick completely free and wiped off the end, not terribly minding the bit of oil now smudged across black gloves before replacing the stick. “Unfortunately, missing out on little maintenance details like that can be bad news for your vehicle.” She pulled the stick out again and shook her head. “Looks like you’re bone dry on oil.” Lilac eyes flashed her way for a moment. “You know that’s no good for the motor, right?”

“I’ll admit I had my suspicions.” Leaning against her vehicle, she shrugged. “What, uh, exactly does that mean? Not having oil?”

“Well, you see, motors are… hardy but precise.” Her tongue darted out to wet her lips as she leaned over the engine block again, one hand reaching up to keep her hair back and putting the column of her neck on display- muscled and tanned with a light sheen of sweat. “The oil lubricates them, keeps all the parts moving smoothly, makes it so the friction doesn’t wear the parts down. I mean, don’t get me wrong, a little friction is good from time to time.” A smirk was shot her way and Winter suddenly realized they might not be discussing the actual, physical engine in front of them at all. “But the oil’s important for other reasons, too. Stops the oxidation process. Wouldn’t want to get all rusty, right?”

Scrounging for something to say for a moment, Winter mentally slapped herself a second time. She wasn’t about to be shown up by some blonde biker with a pretty smile; she was still a Schnee, damnit, and word games came part and parcel with the upbringing.

“Of course not, although I’ll admit I’ve been a touch too lax recently in that regard. It’s entirely possible there’s rust in the motor, but I’m sure there’s some method of… taking care of that problem, correct?”

“There’s a few that I can think of, yeah.” A fire burned in the woman’s eyes and she suddenly got the feeling that her willingness to play this little game had just made up for her lack of proper maintenance. Yang stood up straight, reaching up to start unzipping her jacket. “We’ll need some oil before we really get your motor going, though.”

“And I’m sure you know exactly how to provide that.” Winter leaned forward, just a bit. She didn’t want to come off as  _too_  forward of course; a pretty face did not a stable relationship make.

“Lucky for you, I do.” Pulling the jacket from her shoulders, the blonde smirked… and then gently shoved the leather into Winter’s chest. “Hold this for me? I’m going to pop under real quick.” She winked. “Pouring in new oil does us no good if you’ve sprung a leak.”

Belatedly coming up to hold onto the jacket, Winter blinked even as the biker got down on her knees. Either Yang had truly meant the engine the whole time or she’d just been very slyly informed to slow down.

“Please, be careful down there.” Glancing down, her attempt at recovering smoothly became effectively derailed as she noted the woman’s white tank top, giving her even more evidence that Yang worked out her upper body religiously. Those  _shoulders-_ it should be some manner of illegal to look that good. “I… wouldn’t… want you to hurt yourself on account of me.”

“Not to worry, Winter.” Another wink. “I’ve had frostbite before.” And then she began shuffling under the car. “I’m pretty sure nothing here can hurt as bad as  _that_ did. Anyone ever tell you that Atlas is too damn cold?”

Back to flirting.

Perhaps she couldn’t figure out Yang’s pace or ultimate end game- if she was teasing, just being friendly, or genuinely flirting- but she’d been on the defensive long enough. Time for her to launch a proper counter offensive.

“People have said that our winters are too cold, yes, but I think that’s just because some people have no idea how to handle them,” she said, watching the woman’s legs kick out to help her move, and noting that it wasn’t just the position; the fabric of her chaps and jeans were tight against her skin thanks to muscle. “As long as you know how to properly warm up, winters are rather enjoyable.”

“Is that right?” A bit more shuffling around. “I suppose you know all about keeping warm, huh?”

“Of course.” With a sly smirk coming to her lips, she knelt down. “It’s all about proper considerations, knowing when friction is needed and when it’s not, how hot breath can feel so good but might undo you, when it’s better to take your jacket off rather than to keep it on, that sort of thing. Oh, and hydration is important. Wouldn’t want your tongue dry.”

She waited, watching how the woman went still before beginning to shuffle back out.

“Those, uh, sound like pretty good tips. Might have to try a few myself, next time winter comes.” Out from under the car, Yang offered her a smirk. “‘Course, I might not be around when that happens, but I’d like to be.”

“Plan on going somewhere?” She extended a hand, helping the woman to her feet, and considered her strategy carefully. She’d left the question just vague enough; if the biker wanted to make a move, now would be the time to do it.

For a moment, it looked like Yang just might take the bait… but then she differed at the last second. “I’m, uh, actually not from around here, so I was thinking of heading back home this year for a visit.” She shrugged, brushing off the back of her arms in a rather flashy fashion. “I’m still not sure if I’m Atlas material.”

Reading between the lines, she thought she might see where the woman actually intended to take that last line, and opted to respond in kind. “Have you considered you’re just too good for this kingdom?” Sweeping a hand towards the countryside around them. “It might look beautiful, but it can be cold and unforgiving at times. Sometimes, I find myself wondering why anyone would want to live here.”

It stood as truth in a multitude of ways. Atlas, in the colder months, was nigh uninhabitable without the advances in heating technology, and it reflected in just how much of the kingdom remained uninhabited just north of where they were. However, in reference to herself… it wasn’t untrue; she could be just as harsh as her namesake and she’d made enough mistakes over the years to recognize that now with the benefit of hindsight.

“Yeah, well… nothing ventured, nothing gained, right?” Yang nodded towards her bike. “How about I give you a ride? We can grab a few quarts of oil for ya, see if we can get this beauty up and running.” She nodded towards the door. “I just need to check the info panel inside your door.”

“That sounds reasonable.” Winter reached up, undoing the knot on her outer coat. “And I think I could do without this.”

“I thought you were cold,” the biker said, opening the door and looking for the information she needed.

As she peeled the coat off, she chuckled. “No, it’s actually a rather nice day. I’m afraid I just had to be in full uniform.”

“Full uniform, huh? What are you- whoa.” Lilac eyes glanced her way and then returned, widening a bit as she threw the coat onto the passenger seat. “Uh… military, huh?”

“Yes.” Her brow twitched. “For a while longer, at any rate.”

“Sore spot?” Yang frowned while putting her own jacket back on. “Wanna talk about it?”

She quite nearly shot back a quip about discussing her personal life with strangers but… well, it wasn’t like she had many sympathetic ears, and she could only yell inside her own head for so long before she hated the sound of her own voice rebounding off her skull.

“Three months ago, I got into a bar fight,” she said, smoothing out her collar and sighing. “Perhaps it would be more accurate to say I  _started_  the bar fight. I didn’t appreciate the way I was being addressed and the words ‘leave me alone’ didn’t seem to be in his vocabulary, so I attempted to leave. When my path was blocked, I attempted to remove said barrier by breaking a pool cue on his jaw.” She paused. “And then a chair against his ribs and maybe a table over his back. After the third punch from a stellar, upstanding good Samaritan, I’ll admit my recollection gets fuzzy.”

“Sounds like self defense to me.” Yang shrugged, crossing her arms over her chest. “I mean, when words fail, physical means tend to be the next step, right?”

“Not by regulation.” Winter shook her head. “Today, the court dismissed the charges, but only because my superior officer made the case that I was protecting Atlesian military property by defending myself, and I’m not sure which irks me worse: the idea that I should’ve allowed myself to remain trapped in the situation or the concept that my personhood has more rights when viewed through the lens of military equipment rather than as a person at all.”

“I’m guessing this isn’t the first time you’ve gotten into a scuffle like that.” A little grin came to her lips, tilting her head and cocking her hip out. “Bit of a hothead, huh?”

“It’s one of my many flaws, yes, thank you for noticing,” she replied dryly, waving a hand in front of her. “At any rate, it’s not getting us any closer to fixing my car.”

“Right. Come on.” As they approached the bike, Yang hurried ahead and grabbed her helmet, turning around and holding it out. “Sorry, but I’ve only got the one.”

“I- are you sure I should be the one wearing it?”

“Hey, I have a policy.” Her voice turned seriously, bereft of the cheery quality it had while they bantered by the car. “If you’re going to trust me to get you safely to the gas station and back, then the onus is on me to do it safely, and that means I do everything in my power to protect you. That includes not speeding, not driving like a maniac, and letting you use my helmet.”

“Hard to argue with that.” Winter took the helmet into her hands, noting the bright yellow color and the little dragon decal painted above the brow.

“Uh, just one thing.” Yang winced, though something about the expression seemed… slightly insincere. “I’m afraid it’s not going to fit over that bun of yours.”

She raised a brow but acknowledged the truth in the words. “Very well. I’ll not be a burden on your conscience.”

Reaching up, she pulled out a few bobby pins, years of military service providing her with not only an expedient method of getting her hair within regulations but also one to get it out. And, seeing as she wasn’t due to be standing before anyone  _else_  in her chain of command again today, she went ahead and pulled out the tie as well, allowing alabaster locks to flow freely over her shoulders.

She didn’t miss the low whistle that Yang let out nor the way she quickly averted her gaze and pretended to check over her bike. “That’s some long hair.”

“Thank you. Yours is rather long as well, and it looks smooth to the touch.” She reached out, almost touching but not quite, and found her wrist caught in a steel grip.

“Sorry, Winter.” Yang gave her a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “But that’s gonna have to wait until  _after_  you buy me dinner.”

“Sore spot?” At the biker’s nod, she shrugged. “Noted. I wouldn’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“Thanks.” Rolling her neck, the woman shook herself before mounting her bike, kicking on the engine and throwing a look over her shoulder. “Hop on. You ever ridden before?”

“No,” she replied, trying to make the motion look as smooth as Yang had while fastening the helmet into place. “Any tips?”

“When you see me lean, lean with me, just a little.” Over the roar of the engine, she called out the instructions with a smile. “And hang on if you feel scared.”

“Why would I-” at the first lurch, the motion unexpected and entirely out of her control, she quickly reached forward and grabbed the woman’s hips, mentally chastising herself. “You did that intentionally.”

“Well, we wouldn’t get too far just sitting here!” Turning the bike up the road, she started laying on the throttle, putting her feet up on the rests as they began to pick up speed. “It’s almost a straight shot! Just relax!”

Now there was a novel idea if she’d ever heard one. Winter didn’t  _relax_  very often, always expecting her next step to be fraught with some manner of peril, some test to pass. Yet, as she mustered the nerve to look around, she could admit being the passenger for a change… well, it was actually rather nice.

The roar of the engine, the wind in her face, catching in her hair, and now that she had plenty of reason to be so close, she could catch the other woman’s lavender perfume on the wind. 

This wasn’t so bad, really, and when they pulled into the gas station, she almost lamented it being over so quick.

“Okay, let’s go grab that oil,” Yang said as she shut off the bike and kicked out the stand for it, waiting until she’d dismounted before doing so herself. They walked into the store, finding the small automotive section off to the side, and the biker went through explaining the different types of oils, what each weight meant, and helped her pick out one for her car. “’Course, this won’t be a permanent fix. You still need to go to a shop and get a change, probably a flush to be on the safe side. And get everything else looked over, too; you might be running low on coolant.”

“How do you know all this?” Winter gestured towards the isle. “I’d say this is a bit more than the average person’s knowledge about automobiles.”

“Well, I’m a mechanic.” She shrugged. “Learned it from my Dad. I work at a garage just a few miles up the road.”

“I haven’t made you late for work, have I?”

“Nah, it’s my off day.” Lilac eyes flicked over her form. “Not that I’d object to being late even if I was, of course.”

They started towards the check out. “Ah, so you’re the type to get fired over a pair of pretty eyes, is that it?”

“Okay, one, they wouldn’t fire me for being late  _one time_.” She reached up, tapping a finger against her chin. “Two, you’re not exactly  _wrong_  but I’d like to think I have  _a little_  more self control than that.”

“I do hope your partner isn’t the jealous type,” she said offhandedly, producing a few lien to pay for the oil. “I’d hate to get you in trouble for your assistance.”

She waved off the comment with a chuckle. “Oh, I’m single. I don’t really  _do_  relationships anymore.”

“There’s a story there.” Winter glanced at the line of her shoulders, noting the smooth and relaxed slope; no trace of the tension that appeared when she’d tried touching the woman’s golden strands. “Any chance I might hear it?”

“I’ll, uh, give you the cliff notes version: can’t find anyone who’s willing to put in the time.” Her gaze went over to the bike as the receipt printed off. “I’m like Bumblebee over there. Clutch is kinda funny, takes a while to really  _get_  me, know when to shift, but most people just… want to grind my gears and hope they don’t burn me out.” She shrugged. “I got tired of it.”

“That’s understandable.” While she didn’t have quite the same grasp of vehicles, she had enough to make a suitable analogy. “For me, there’s always a disconnect. People take one look and think of me like a Bugatti or Ashton Martin- expensive, high class, only the finest, a symbol of status. That’s how I was raised, so I suppose I can’t fault them for the presumption.”

“But you’re obviously a Jeep,” Yang said with pinched brows and a frown. “You’re tough, you take on anything, you can turn right around in the blink of an eye, and I’m willing to bet you can handle a lot of stuff that would break other people. Who would think you’re a Bugatti?”

“People who don’t take the time to get to know me,” she replied, offering a smile and picking up the bag with the motor oil. “Shall we?”

As they rode back to her car, a plan solidified in her mind. She simply couldn’t let this chance meeting end and never see the woman again; Yang possessed one too many traits she found desirable to let that happen. But, she had to tread carefully. The last thing she wanted to do was push too far, too fast, and run the risk of rejection. But another thought occurred to her, one that made her hesitate only briefly.

“Okay, I’ll pour this into your car, and we’ll try turning her over.” Yang lead the way back to her car, unscrewing the cap on one bottle.

“I don’t suppose you get any sort of incentive for referring customers to your shop, do you?”

The biker winced, glancing over at her. “Well, we  _do_ , about fifty bucks a pop, but… uh, I wasn’t going to refer you.”

She raised a brow. “Any particular reason?”

“Well,  _since_  you spoiled the surprise,” she said, chuckling slightly. “I was gonna suggest that, since I helped you out with the ride and all, maybe you could pay me back with dinner tomorrow night? Not- not actually pay for the  _meal_ , of course, I don’t mean that kinda pay back, just, um.” Yang shook her head. “Dang, I was gonna be real smooth about this and now I’m all thrown off, heh.”

Ah, a sign that she had read the entire encounter correctly from the start. The biker might’ve pulled over out of friendliness and not abandoning her to her own problems, but she’d been flirting with Winter just as Winter had been flirting with her.

“May I propose an alternative?” She leaned against her car again, not missing the way lilac eyes flicked over her- apparently, someone rather liked her uniform. “How about you  _do_  refer me to your garage, and that pays you back for your assistance here. Then we have dinner tomorrow on equal footing.”

The corners of her mouth twitched up into a smile. “Ya know, if someone told me this morning that a pretty lady was going to ask me out on a date, I’d think they were crazy.”

“If someone told me this morning that a beautiful woman was going to accept my offer for a date, I’d think the same.” She made a motion to the engine. “Yet here we are.”

“Oh,  _someone_  is confident, huh?” Yang laughed, emptying one bottle and grabbing the second. “You’re lucky I think that’s hot.”

“I agree,” she replied, tilting her head slightly. “But you’re right; you haven’t accepted yet.”

“Oh, I’m accepting, I’m accepting as hard as I can, trust me.” The biker smiled wider. “And, uh, as good as you look in that uniform- and, believe me, you look  _good_ \- think you could dress a bit more casual? There’s a place over on seventh I’ve been dying to try- it’s a little Mistrali restaurant.”

“You haven’t been there yet?” Surprised, she shifted. “It’s one of my favorites.”

“Well, then, I really hope I like it, too.”

“I think you will.” She hummed. “And you could get away with wearing leather there, though I wouldn’t mind if you’d rather I pick you up.”

“Oh, come now, you really want to see me in a different outfit?”

“I think you’d look rather fetching in a tank top and gym shorts, frankly.”

“I’ll wear that if you wear a bikini.”

“I do know of an indoor pool.” At the way Yang ducked her head, she opted to give the woman a break. “But I think we should both aim for ‘casual’ attire. We’d probably be a little less out-of-place that way.”

“Sounds like a plan.” Finished with the second bottle, she nodded towards the driver’s seat while screwing the cap back on the tank. “Now try turning her over. Let’s see what happens.”

Winter walked around, sliding into her driver’s seat and doing as requested, relieved when not only did the vehicle start, but all the warning lights on the dashboard disappeared. “Thankfully, that worked.”

“Yeah, you’re telling me.” Yang chuckled, appearing by the door. “Not sure if I’d look as smooth if it hadn’t.”

“I’d be willing to forgive you,” she said, smirking. “Though I think I would demand a second date on principle alone.”

“Oh, I take it back, I wish I’d been wrong.” The biker winked. “How about you follow me down to the garage and we can keep talking while they do your oil change? I can call ahead, so you don’t have to wait as long.”

“How about we do those first two but skip the third.” She lifted her shoulder. “I’m in no rush if you aren’t.”

“I’m not.” Yang took a step away. “Oh, and try to watch the road instead of my ass.”

“You’re lucky I prize such straightforwardness.”

“Oh, I’m definitely forward, but not so much straight.” Another wink. “C’mon, let’s get going. We can play twenty questions when we get to the shop.” As she started walking away, she smiled. “And I’m letting you know that now so you can come up with some  _good_  ones, alright? Don’t disappoint!”

“I’ll do my best.” She smiled, watching as Yang turned around and sauntered back to her bike, and in the privacy of her own mind she could admit that the biker’s warning was warranted. It  _would_  be rather difficult to watch the road when she had something much more enticing in front of her, but the mental exercise of coming up with questions would likely keep her busy.


	12. Grease Monkey

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TheFabulousUncle made a suggestion on the Elderburn Discord and I couldn't resist...

Winter’s brows furrowed together in that peculiar way, the one that indicated she’d encountered something both unexpected and unwanted, a defect in the machine that required all her mechanical talent to repair. She’d already stripped off the top half of her coveralls, tied the sleeves around her waist to keep them out of her way, and the white tank top beneath was stained by oil and grime and wet from sweat. Beads of it dripped from her brow, rolled down her neck, over collarbone and soaked into the fabric even as her hands worked within the engine block, carefully tearing it apart piece by piece. 

Yang licked her lips, trying to draw a steady breath. She both loved and hated when she managed to swing by the shop and find Winter elbow deep in a project. On the one hand, the sight before her constituted nothing short of a blessing. On the other… well… she  _did_  feel an awful lot like a peeping Tom at that moment. 

“Oh, there you are,” Weiss said, entering the shop from the door that lead upstairs, where the sisters lived. “I didn’t hear you come in." 

"I can be quiet when I wanna,” she replied, biting her lip and weighing her options. They were supposed to be meeting up with Ruby and Blake- a rare bit of downtime between their hectic schedules- but after a year of stealing glances, she just had to get it off her chest. “Can I call in a favor?" 

"As long as it’s nothing ridiculous.” It didn’t seem like her staring had been noticed, since Weiss seemed far more concerned with checking the logbook on the counter than looking at her friend. “What is it?" 

"I’m gonna say some things. And I want no judgment or reality check or… like, I wanna say it, and then you forget that I said it, and we go catch a movie with Ruby and Blake like nothing happened." 

"As ominous as that sounds, I know you well enough to know you’re being serious right now.” She looked away from the window into the garage and met Weiss’ curious gaze. “Go ahead.”

“Your sister is  _hot_.” She could  _feel_  her cheeks igniting as a blush bloomed on her face but continued regardless. “And, like, not in the we-just-met-let’s-hook-up hot, I mean the every-time-I-look-at-you-there’s-a-fire-in-my-soul hot, the kinda hot that mesmerizes you and makes you want to try to hold it in your hand, even if it burns. She’s smart, she’s stubborn, she’s snarky- I literally can’t list everything I like about her, because there’s just too much, but I know what I don’t like, because that’s just how things go ya know, because you don’t just like  _all_ of a person off the bat, but  _damn_ do I want to get to the point where I love every little thing about her.” She took a deep breath, somehow managing everything previous in one go, and nodded to herself. “That’s it. Let’s go." 

"Now wait just a fucking minute.” Her friend snapped. “You honestly expect me to just  _forget_ you said all that?" 

"Eh, yeah?” Yang shrugged. “I mean… look, I know what my chances are here: abysmal. You two are the pioneers of new technologies, you know dust engines better than anyone else on the planet, there’s not a soul alive that doesn’t know who you two are, and me? I own a noddle shop.” She reached up, running a hand through her hair. “I mean, my food is  _good_ , but it’s not high quality, five star level. She’d have her pick of anyone in Remnant!" 

Weiss stared at her for a moment before rubbing two fingers against her temple. "And what am I? Chopped liver? Did you forget I’m dating a civil rights activist? Where are you getting this preconceived notion of our dating standards, really-" 

"Blake’s at least famous." 

"Or infamous, depending on your perspective,” she said with a little curl to her lips that spoke of amusement. Then she sighed. “Right. Let’s just get this over with- follow me and stand by the tires. Don’t move, don’t speak, try not to breath- just listen." 

"But-”

“That wasn’t a request.” Weiss turned, heading to the door leading into the garage. “Do this for me, and I’ll not spend every day for the rest of our lives yelling at you for telling me how hot you think my sister is.” With a grumble about ‘that’s not how favors work’, Yang reluctantly complied, slipping out behind her friend and standing next to a stack of tires, watching as Weiss walk around to the other side of the vehicle Winter was working on and clearing her throat. “I forgot to mention; I have a friend coming to pick me up. I won’t be home until later." 

"A friend? Blake’s busy?” Although she didn’t stop her work, Winter canted her head to indicate she was listening. 

“She’s wrapping up a meeting." 

"Understandable. Ruby, then?" 

"Yang, actually." 

At that, the woman cursed under her breath and stood up straight, turning to level a look at her sister. Yang couldn’t see, what with Winter’s back to her and all, but the tension in her shoulders spoke of frustration. "How many times have I told you to give me more warning when Yang’s coming over?” She gestured down at herself. “Just once, I’d like to be able to greet her without smelling like a burned up oil filter." 

"You know she doesn’t mind,” Weiss replied, seemingly bored by her sister’s indignation. “We’ve been friends for years and she’s never complained." 

"That’s not the point!”

“Why don’t you just tell her already?” She rolled her eyes and sighed. “You act like this every time she comes over, no matter how much notice I give you." 

"You know I’d need  _at least_  two hours to get showered and dressed.” Winter growled, leaning against the vehicle. “One would  _think_ having a girlfriend would imbue you with  _some_ sense of romance." 

Yang’s brows rose. Romance? 

"Enlighten me,” Weiss said with a little smirk. “What are your perfect conditions?" 

"First off, I wouldn’t be wearing this.” She gestured at her coveralls. “I’d be cleaned up, in my suit." 

"The white one with the blue trim?" 

"Yes, that one, my very best,” she said, crossing her arms as her voice took on a whimsical quality Yang had never heard before but drank up greedily. “Then, I’d take her to Coté Guillard." 

"You’d take her to the best restaurant in the city?” Weiss looked absolutely perplexed. “You don’t even like their food!" 

"That’s the point.” Winter chuckled. “We’d go, and the food would be  _awful_ \- I’d tell her how I just can’t stand places like that, ones that are missing that special little something, and that it could just never measure up to  _her_ cooking." 

"You’d spend  _hundreds_ of lien on a dinner for the sole purpose of telling Yang her cooking is better?" 

"It goes beyond that.” Winter pushed off the vehicle and started to pace, so absorbed in her thoughts she still didn’t notice Yang standing by the tires. “I want to show her that it’s not about the money- mine or hers. She just as good, if not  _better_ than anyone else with more lien in their pocket, because I’ve seen the way she looks at Neptune sometimes when he does his 'rich boy whining’ routine-" 

"You know he’s mostly being sarcastic… well, nowadays, anyway.”

“The point still stands; Yang doesn’t realize she’s absolutely priceless, precious- she’s  _far_ more than what she sees herself. I want to show her that." 

"And you can’t do it looking like that because…" 

Winter shot her sister a withering glare. "Because she deserves my absolute best and  _nothing_ less.” A pause. “And, really, this is all hypothetical anyway. I don’t even know if she’d say yes, but I’d like to try. So, could you please give me just a  _bit_ more warning next time?" 

"How does three days sound?” Weiss tilted her head. “Say… Thursday at six?" 

For a moment, it looked like Winter might balk, but then she nodded resolutely. "If you could convince her to stop by, I  _swear_  I’ll ask her out. I just want the opportunity to try." 

"Very well; I’ll let her know.” Then, Weiss looked straight at Yang. “Your schedule  _is_  free Thursday, correct?" 

Winter went stock still for the blink of an eye before whirling around, gaze landing on the blonde as her jaw dropped open. In the next moment, it looked like she was about to turn and either yell at Weiss or bolt, but Yang’s brain kicked into high gear at that moment. 

"Let’s go to my place!” She waited for Winter to look at her before continuing. “I mean, going to a fancy restaurant just to hear you riff on the food sounds  _hilarious_  but I’d rather us have a nice meal and just, ya know, talk. So how about my place? Thursday at six?" 

Winter blinked, looking around almost like she didn’t believe what she was hearing. Then, she met Yang’s gaze with a very light blush rising in her cheeks, hardly visible beneath the smudge of oil. "But… you… I mean, if you’re taking some personal time, wouldn’t you want to spend it away from the restaurant?" 

She smirked "I said my  _place_ , not my restaurant." 

Slowly, the woman’s lips curled into a devious little smile. "That’s sounds a great deal more intimate. I can’t say I disapprove.” And then a nod. “Very well. Thursday at six.”

“Perfect!” She beamed, smiled so wide her cheeks hurt, and decided to get one more little tease in while she could. “And, uh, if you insist on the suit, I  _definitely_ won’t stop you, but for the record?” Deliberately, she looked Winter up and down, then licked her lips. “I’m a fan of the grease monkey look." 

"And  _that_  is where I’m going to end this flirtfest before it turns into the screenplay for a bad porno,” Weiss said, marching across the garage and grabbing Yang’s arm. “You two have plenty of time to flirt with each other; we have a prior engagement to get to." 

"Rude,” Yang said, though she really couldn’t give the woman any shit, all things considered, and instead looked back over her shoulder before being dragged out of the garage. “I’ll call you tonight!" 

"I look forward to it!" 

As they left the shop, Yang threw an arm around Weiss’ shoulder. "Thanks for that. Guess we kinda needed the nudge." 

"I thought we agreed not to talk about it?” Weiss lightly scoffed, though she seemed rather pleased. “But… I  _do_ think you two will be good for each other." 

They made it three more steps before she couldn’t help herself. "So… is it too early to call you 'sister’?” 


	13. Frost Fire

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes, I have terrible impulse control. Frozen/Tangled AU.

Yang felt a smile curling her lips as she looked around, drinking in the sights of a new kingdom without the agonizing burden that her every move would be watched like a hawk. As heir apparent to the throne, the blonde had to worry about everything she did outside the castle walls- and even inside them- but now that she’d finally been reunited with her long lost sister, she didn’t have to worry about the line of succession. Sure, it didn’t sit well with the court, but they just hadn’t acclimated to Ruby’s unique style yet. And, honestly, Yang thought the monarchy could do with a little lightening up.  _She_ couldn’t just do it because she didn’t have royal blood, her only claim to the throne being through her father’s marriage to the Queen. 

“Welcome to Arendelle, Rubes!” She threw an arm out, indicating the castle beyond the town before them, with snow capped mountains on the horizon. “Sure, it’s not Corona, but it’s nice, yeah?" 

"It’s a lot warmer than I expected!” Her sister smiled, fiddling with the crown settled about her temples. “I thought the reigning Queen is supposed to be some sort of ice mage." 

"I’m sure that’s just rumors.” Yang laughed, leading the way from the docks to the castle and waving when she could, smiling at how the sun shone off her armor. It felt  _so good_  to just be a knight as opposed to future ruler. “Besides, we’re here for a wedding! It’s gotta be good weather for that." 

Ruby shot her a curious look. "Considering you have a magic arm, I’m not sure why you’d dismiss the idea of a magic queen so quickly." 

"I’m with Yang.” Sun announced, slipping up beside his fiancé’s side and throwing an arm around her shoulders, though Ruby seemed rather pleased he’d gotten off the ship despite not wearing the suit she’d laid out for him. “A magic fake arm is one thing- the spell is written right there- but the stories go that the Queen of Arendelle can conjure a winter storm with just a look! Sounds fake to me.”

As the couple continued to lightly argue about the veracity of the claims, Yang breathed in deep and looked around the town square, marveling at all the decorations. Not only was the kingdom’s signature snowflake on display just about everywhere she looked but so too were pretty white flowers- edelweiss, a staple of the kingdom- and the people seemed beside themselves with joy, calling out to friends and travelers alike. Beyond the square, the blonde could see where the gates to the castle stood open. 

“We should go introduce ourselves,” she said, looking over her shoulder at Ruby and Sun. “Looks like we might be the first VIPs to arrive. It’d be polite to let our hosts know we’re here." 

"See, Yang, you’re really good at this royalty thing!” Her sister sighed. “ _Why_ can’t you be Queen instead?" 

"Because it’s  _your_  birthright and, honestly, I  _hated_  being ‘Princess Yang’.” She grimaced while leading the way, the couple and their small retinue of guards in tow. “It’s all rules and being nice to people you’d rather throw through a window- you’ve already got more patience than  _I_ ever did." 

"That’s only because I’ve been dreaming of finding where I belong for  _years_ ; I’ve got a lotta motivation to do this right!” Lightly, she knocked a fist against the back of Yang’s chest plate. “If you had a carrot to motivate you, I bet you’d be a better Queen than me.”

“Yeah, well, too late to place that bet, sis!” They crossed a stone bridge over a little moat around the castle, passing through the gates to the courtyard. “Besides,  _nothing_  could… possibly…”

Her words trailed off as her gaze fell on the other occupants of the courtyard, halfway decorated in preparation for the ceremony. 

“I’m just saying, you should consider it.” A woman just a little taller than Ruby with long white hair pulled up into an off center ponytail and a furrow to her brows directed her gaze to a cat eared Faunus, pushing off with her right foot and gliding, effortlessly, across a sheet of ice. “You’re standing at the alter, awaiting your bride, and here I come, gliding down the aisle- how is that  _not_ romantic, Blake?" 

"The part when you fall down and break an arm,” Blake replied, rubbing at her temple. “Look, I  _do_ like the ice theme and everything but this is… a little much. What if you hurt yourself?" 

"I’ve been skating since I was old enough to walk." 

"Weiss-" 

"And there’s no possible way I could be injured. Watch.” With that, Weiss intentionally tripped herself, only for wind, ice, and snow to combine, somehow catching her and returning her to her feet without even mussing her dress. “See? There’s  _nothing_ to be worried about." 

Yang noticed all that- saw and heard it- but that wasn’t what captured her attention entirely. No, what had her completely enthralled was the taller woman standing off to the side, clad in a light blue dress that shimmered in the sun, flowing white locks cascading over her shoulders and a smile on her lips, even as snowflakes danced around her hands. 

"I understand your concerns Blake but, really, you have  _me_ officiating the ceremony. Nothing will go wrong." 

"Winter’s right. Everything will be-” Weiss stopped short. “Oh, excuse me, I didn’t realize we had company… who are you?" 

"Weiss!” Blake sighed, offering an apologetic smile. “Forgive the Princess; she’s a bit distracted by the wedding.”

“Oh, that’s fine! It looks like it’s going to be a beautiful ceremony!” Ruby stepped up, offering a hand. “I’m from Corona! Princess Ruby at your…” she paused, lowering her voice and leaning towards Yang. “Wait, am I a Princess or a Queen?" 

"Huh?” She shook her head, snapping out of her stupor. “Oh, uh, you’re a Princess still. Dad’s King until you feel ready to assume the throne; he’s basically your placeholder." 

"Great!” She laughed. “So, yeah, Princess Ruby at your service!" 

She then tried to curtsy, though Sun had to grab her hips with his tail to keep her from falling over. "And I’m Sun. Just, uh, just Sun." 

"Welcome Princess Ruby and Just Sun,” Winter said, a twinkle in her eye that seemed to be shared in the ice crown around her temples. Then, her gaze landed on Yang, ice blue eyes somehow warm despite the chill that surrounded her. “You must be one of their knights." 

"Uh… yeah.” She nodded, dumbly, while trying to get her brain back on track. “And a Princess. Kinda." 

That seemed to spark a bit of confusion in the Arendelle nobles. Luckily, Sun came to the rescue. "The normally articulate Yang here is Ruby’s older half sister from a previous marriage; their dad is royal by marriage, making Ruby the blood heir to the throne." 

"Ah, the intricacies of succession. How troublesome a headache,” Winter said. “Welcome to Arendelle. We’re glad Corona accepted the invitation; it’s been far too long since our kingdoms have spoken.” A shadow of concern passed over her expression. “I’ll admit, some of that is my fault. I hope to do better in the years to come." 

"You’re beautiful,” Yang said, not entirely sure if that’s what she meant to blurt out but rolling with it. “I mean- this ceremony, it’s beautiful, and you’re in charge of it, so you can obviously do it, do it better- you’re a very good. Great. Wonderful. Yes." 

… the blonde stood there, blushing and trying not to fidget, while everyone else stared. But then, a slick smile spread across Sun’s lips, and a cloud of dread descended on her.

"You know, Yang’s actually reminded me- does Your Majesty have a date to the wedding?" 

"I’ve only recently started talking to people outside the castle staff so, no, I’m afraid I haven’t secured a date.” Winter smirked, eyes narrowed slightly in suspicion. “Why?”

“Hmmm… well, that’s gonna be a problem.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “In Corona, we have a very old, very sacred tradition for weddings, and it’s very important for us to impart good will on the wedding party by dancing with each member and their partner. But, if you don’t have a date…” He sighed and shook his head. “That’s just bad luck for the wedding, plain and simple." 

Yang opened her mouth to loudly remind him that,  _no_ , they didn’t have any such custom as that, but Ruby gasped and quickly intervened. 

 "That’s right! The couples’ dance is  _super_  important! Oh, Your Majesty, would you please consider taking a date to the wedding?" 

"I’m not sure who I could find on such short notice,” the Queen replied. “Unless you have a suggestion-" 

"My sister!” Ruby slapped her pauldron. “Yang’s still considered royalty in Corona and it would be a great gesture to the people, showing that we’re committed to rebuilding the bond our kingdoms once shared, right?" 

” _That_  is a solid point.“ Winter took two steps back. "But, as I’m sure you’re aware, we have our own customs to abide, and a trial must be faced before I can grant any such an honor.” Then, she held out her hand and met Yang’s gaze. “If you wish to be my date for the wedding, brave knight, you must take my hand before I count to five." 

Yang blinked, her first thought being that it sounded  _too_ easy and her second being that she didn’t really care, she was doing it. However, she’d been so distracted by the Queen’s… everything that it just now occurred to her that her feet were rather cold, and a glance down told her why: blocks of ice had formed, almost half a foot thick encasing her shins and rooting her to the spot.

"One." 

She tried to pull herself free but failed and even though she could feel the heat pouring off of her as Weiss and Blake stifled their amusement, it probably wasn’t enough to melt ice like this, or do it quick enough.

"Two." 

Thinking quickly, she reached up, tugging at the straps that secured her magic arm in place. 

"Three." 

Undoing the anchoring latch, she pulled it free from her body, slapping the limp hand into the Queen’s with a triumphant smirk. 

"F-…” Winter blinked, grabbing hold of the hand and twisting it left and right, until she could see the spellwork inscribed on the armor. “Well… that settles that." Her gaze shifted to Weiss. "It appears I have a date to your wedding, Sister." 

"Indeed you do.” More than a little suspicion infected the woman’s tone but Blake seemed rather amused, and Ruby and Sun flashed her big smiles and thumbs up. 

Honestly, the only thing going through Yang’s mind was how much she did  _and_ didn’t want to know what trials she’d face if she wanted a kiss. 

And the former was winning out over the latter. 

* * *

Yang reached up, adjusting her chestplate and handing off her empty champagne flute to a passing servant. The reception had started before sunset but now the moon has risen high over the fjord, and she couldn’t help but step out onto the balcony to drink in the sight. After so many years releasing lanterns into an unforgiving night sky, she could finally appreciate the beauty of the moon’s glow. 

It still hadn’t lost its appeal. 

“Are you enjoying the festivities?" 

"Yeah!” She winced at her too loud reply, coughing into one hand as her date for the night came to stand beside her. “I mean, it’s a very nice reception. The ceremony was gorgeous." 

"Thank you.” Winter paused, in that deliberate way that meant she hadn’t yet decided what she wanted to say. The knight probably shouldn’t be able to tell that but… in the short few days she’d been in Arendelle, she’d paid its Queen an exorbitant amount of attention, and she’d picked up on a few things. “I’m surprised you didn’t change." 

”… huh?“ 

"Your armor- it must be stifling. You could’ve changed into something more comfortable for the reception.” She smiled a bit wider. “Not that you don’t look dashing in it, of course.”

“Oh. Right.” Forcing a chuckle, Yang looked away, tracing the outline of masts down at the docks. “It’s just… safer." 

Worry creased the woman’s brow. "I apologize; I’d hoped I’d stationed enough of my guards-" 

"No!” She quickly put her hands up, waving off the apology. “No, it’s not- I don’t wear armor to protect  _me_. I wear it to protect  _everyone else_.” At the confusion and curiosity splayed on the Queen’s face, she quickly continued, all the while working the straps of her left gauntlet. “I- I don’t talk about it. It’s… scary, and I get that, it scared me, too, but it’s really for the best. But… I guess… maybe you-” sliding the gauntlet off her hand, revealing her bare flesh to another person for the first time in years, Yang closed her eyes and turned her head away, afraid of what she might find as a familiar warmth bloomed in her hand “-you might… understand." 

She didn’t dare look up, even as tongues of flame licked at her fingers. The armor helped smother the flames before they began but, bereft of that barrier, she could do nothing to keep the fire that coursed through her veins in check. It had never proven useful- hadn’t helped her keep Ruby from being kidnapped- so she tried to just… forget about it most days. 

But ever since arriving in Arendelle, she couldn’t, the heat of her blush and being surrounded by ice a constant reminder of her own dark secret. 

"It’s beautiful." 

"What?” She looked up, surprised by the sincerity in blue eyes. “Fire  _destroys_ \- that’s all it can do. I’m a danger-”

“I used to think that of myself,” Winter said, her voice soft as newly fallen snow. “When we were young, I accidentally hurt Weiss. The scar across her left eye? I gave her that.” Sadness infected her tone as she sighed. “It wasn’t intentional; I was just scared. And for over a decade, I refused to so much as look at her, because all I could think of was the fear and the shame- I gave her a scar, turned her left eye completely white. Every time she looked at me, that was all I could think of, how scared I was that I might do it again.” Then she reached out, slowly, lithe fingers drawing closer to the flame. “But this isn’t something to fear; I learned that myself not too long ago. I doubt you’d ever hurt anyone intentionally with this gift. Not your sister or her fiancé. Or even me." 

"Don’t-" 

"Hush.” Despite Yang’s worst fears and the flames feeding off that and growing larger, crawling up her wrist, the Queen merely threaded her fingers through the tongues of fire, steam rising up with a soft hiss. “Ice powers, remember? You won’t hurt me." 

Tears stung at her eyes as Winter kept going, until she was lightly holding the knight’s hand, fire and steam rising in equal measure, though the former began to calm as the fear seeped away slowly. "I… don’t… it doesn’t hurt?" 

"No. Fire  _can_  destroy, but it’s also a light to show us the way. It cooks our food and keeps us warm.” A chuckle left the woman’s lips. “Honestly? I don’t think I’ve ever felt this warm. It’s rather nice.”

Hesitantly, Yang closed her fingers around Winter’s hand, unable to dispel the flames but amazed at the sensation of skin against hers. “It is, huh?”

“When was the last time you tried to hold someone’s hand?”

“I… really don’t remember.”

“I thought so. I was the same way. And, if it’ll make you feel better,” the Queen said, lowering her voice slightly. “I believe there’s a custom somewhere that says a knight pledging loyalty to an allied kingdom strengthens political bonds, and I wouldn’t mind having another knight around the castle." 

Bolstered just a bit by the hand in hers, she said the first thing that came to mind. "Is Arendelle officially requesting the presence of a hot knight?" 

"Only if she’ll keep my bed warm.” Yang’s brows rose but the woman seemed intent on teasing rather than flirting. For now, anyway. “You do tend to put out a lot of heat when you blush." 

"Well, too bad I don’t do that very often.” Winter raised a challenging brow before quickly leaning in, cupping the knight’s jaw and planting a ghost of a kiss high on her cheek and, absently, Yang had to be grateful she was dealing with the woman now affectionately nicknamed “The Ice Queen”, because the amount of figurative and literal heat that that simple action produced became rapidly apparent by the amount of steam now billowing off the balcony. 

“I’m not sure if that will happen  _every_  time I kiss you… but I’m very tempted to find out.” The Queen chuckled, waving a hand to fix the slight damage done to her wardrobe and turning to head back inside. “I do hope you’ll stay, Yang. I’d like a little more time to warm up to you.” 

* * *

Yang stood in the courtyard, eyes closed as snowflakes caught in her hair and melted on her skin. While she’d gained more control in recent months, she still ran hotter than most people, and the natural snowfall in Arendelle couldn’t quite stand up to it. But for the split second before they melted, she loved the feeling of them hitting her skin- her face, her bare arms, her shins. She probably looked crazy to someone who hadn’t been in the castle for the past few months, standing there in nothing more than short cut trousers and a tunic, but she’d honestly never felt more alive. 

“You look ridiculous,” Weiss said, waddling out into the courtyard. “You could catch a cold, you know." 

"I really can’t,” she replied, smirking. “Shouldn’t you be resting? On top of eating for two, you should be sleeping for two." 

 "I  _wish_  it worked like that.” The Princess laughed, resting a hand on her belly. “She knows it’s snowing; she won’t let me sleep." 

"Think she might have powers too?” Without even thinking about it, her own hand drifted to her belly, and Yang had to adjust the line of her trousers to cover the motion. “Would be kinda cute. Lil kid running around, conjuring snowstorms." 

Weiss looked at her then, in that way she did more and more in recent weeks, and shrugged. "I think my sister is more likely to pass on the powers.  _If_  she were to have kids, of course.”

“Do you… do you think she’d want to?” Yang scratched at the back of her head. “I mean, hypothetically. Is that… something she’d want?" 

She watched as the Princess smiled, sitting down on a snow covered bench and hissing as the cold soaked through her nightgown. 

"She likes the cold, I think,” she said, motioning towards her unborn child. “She’s not moving around as much now. It soothes her. And, to answer your question?” A sigh. “When we were kids, Winter firmly believed in soulmates. With our parents… she used to say that it’s what happened when people married for station and not for love, that if we keep looking, we’ll find our soulmates- the ones who balance us, complete us, harmonize with us.” Apparently having her fill of the cold, Weiss got up. “I think, once she finds the person who balances her, Winter will go to the ends of the planet for that person’s happiness. If they want kids, she will, too… but I also know my sister is old fashioned. Someone will have to make  _quite_  the grand gesture for her to consider them.” A smile. “Goodnight, Yang." 

As the Princess left, the knight’s shoulders slumped. A grand gesture? What qualified as a grand gesture to a woman whose sister literally climbed a mountain in a blizzard just to apologize? 

"I’m an idiot,” she said, falling back and landing in the snow with a muffled thud. Steam billowed out around her and a frown tugged at her lips. Fire and ice didn’t mix, didn’t harmonize; they destroyed each other. “A  _complete_  idiot." 

So… what? She should just  _give up_? Go home, forget the last few months? Yang sat up, a new resolve solidifying in her mind. If Winter wasn’t interested, that was one thing, but she  _refused_  to give up before she’d even tried. Lifting up her hands, she called forth the fire, watching as tongues licked at her forearms and the falling snowflakes. She couldn’t create things the way Winter could. 

… or, could she? 

Lilac eyes rose to the castle’s tallest tower.

"This is either brilliant or crazy,” she said, pushing herself to her feet and not bothering heading inside first, a lifetime of walking around in full armor imbuing her with a lot of strength. Rather than risk getting caught by the guards patrolling the hallways, she hefted herself up, scaling the castle’s structure with the tower as her goal. The wind whipped at her, cold seeping into the tips of her fingers that she shook off with a flare of her fire, Yang climbed up the side of the tower while planning out what she wanted to do. If she used tonight to practice, the weather might hold until tomorrow, and then she stood a chance- 

“Yang, what are you doing?" 

"Yah!” She clung to the side of the tower, turning her head to see a rather unimpressed Queen watching her. “Oh, uh, funny seeing you here, Winter. Couldn’t sleep?" 

"Watching my favorite guest scale the side of my castle in a snow storm  _does_  put a little kink in my nightly routine.” A brow raised. “Now, what are you doing?" 

"Wait, how did you get up here?” Blue eyes flicked down, to the icy platform supporting the woman. “Oh. Well, that makes sense-" 

"Yang.” The Queen sighed. “ _What_  are you doing?" 

"I want to show you something.” She lifted herself up higher. Welp, looked like she wouldn’t have a chance to practice. “Follow me up." 

"Why don’t you just let me take you up?" 

"Uh, I like the exercise?" 

"Yang." 

"Trust me?" 

The Queen sighed. "Fine.”

A few minutes later, they stood on the tower’s balcony, and the knight took a steadying breath before picking out a spot on the slanted roof of the castle. "Now… watch.“ 

Brow pinching in concentration, she pulled forth her flames and set them forth, melting away the snow in a specific pattern, writing out a message in far better penmanship than she could ever effect with her hand. The words "I love you” etched out in flowing script, though with the shifting of the fire it was impossible to read it. The moment she extinguished the flames, however, the remaining snow began to slide, brought down by gravity an the absence of the snow she’d melted away. 

Yang’s shoulders fell as she groaned, her plan backfiring. “Damnit." 

"Has anyone ever told you your eyes turn red when you’re fire’s burning?" 

"Huh?” She glanced at Winter, a blush heating her cheeks as it occurred to her that, even if she had seen it, the Queen would probably act like she hadn’t to save the knight any embarrassment. “I mean, yeah. It’s been mentioned before." 

"Give me your hand.” Winter held out hers, lacing their fingers together when presented the opportunity while calling forth her snow and ice to swirl around their hands. “Now, your flame." 

"But-" 

"Humor me.” With a sigh, she did as asked, watching as red and orange tongues licked without burning, a soft heat shared between them in that moment. Her brows furrowed, however, as the ice began to form almost… around her fire, and then… somehow moving with it, creating a blue tinted flame. 

No, not blue… 

… purple. 

“I think we go together rather well… don’t you?” Winter smiled. “I love you too, Yang." 

Her heart soared, a dopey smile on her lips, yet she couldn’t just accept that, no, she needed more. "But, do you think I’m your soulmate?”

“Weiss mentioned that, did she?” The Queen chuckled. “As a matter of fact… I do.” She squeezed Yang’s hand. “Fire and ice… we’re quite the pair. I’ll admit, I hoped as much from the moment we met." 

"You and me both.” She cleared her throat. “Ya know… I’m pretty sure it’s a custom for royal siblings to marry into allied kingdoms. Strengthen political bonds and such. Is that… something that might interest you?" 

"Yang, are you asking me to marry you?" 

"No.” She laughed, squeezing the hand in hers. “I mean, not yet. I’m looking forward to courting you, honestly, but, ya know. If that’s on the table…" 

"It is." 

"Good. That’s- that’s good.” She swallowed, heart racing as possibilities exploded in her mind. “That’s very  _ice_  to hear." 

And with Winter’s laughter- and the way she turned to hide her face in Yang’s shoulder- the blonde felt that feeling from before. Being with Winter was like standing in a gentle snowfall. Being with Winter… 

She felt alive. 


	14. A Little Surprising

Yang popped up on her tiptoes, tongue sticking out as she tried to reach the top shelf of her bookcase packed to the brim with movies. She’d _sworn_  that they’d watch her favorite Kung Fu flick at the first opportunity and tonight seemed like just that, but in the flurry of activity that had ensued when she cleaned her apartment, she’d accidentally thrown it up there. Unfortunately, it looked like she wouldn’t be able to reach the damn thing unless she went and found the step stool.

_ding dong_

“Crap.” Dropping back down, she resigned to asking her girlfriend for her assistance after letting the woman inside. “Coming, Snowdrift!”  
  
“A bit early for that, don’t you think?” Winter called back through the door, making her laugh as she went to unlock it. 

As she opened the door, she flashed a smile at the woman standing on the other side, in her usual uniform and with a bag slung over one shoulder. As expected, she'd come over straight after work, not even bothering to stop and change into more casual clothes. It still made her heart flutter in her chest a little, that her girlfriend prized their time together so much. “Your wordplay is improving.” 

“I learn from the best.” Winter stepped forward, drawing her into a kiss, one she eagerly fell into for at least a minute before reluctantly pulling away. For a moment, her girlfriend seemed a touch confused. “So, this...  _wasn’t_  code for something else…”

“Hey, if you really wanna go that way, we can.” Yang winked, then gestured at her tank top and shorts. “ _But_ , when I said ‘pajama date’, I just meant setting aside a night where we cuddle on the couch in our pajamas and watch movies all night. No stress, relaxed night in- thought it would be fun.”

“Well, I certainly have no objections to that. I’ll just go change-”

“Oh, before you do, can you grab that case for me?” She pointed at the bookcase. “I can’t reach it.”

“Of course.” Reaching up, she plucked the indicated movie off its perch and handed it over to Yang. “This one?”

“Perfect!” A smile curled her lips. “I’ve been dying to see this one with you.”

“Then I won’t tarry.” A quick kiss against her temple. “I’ll be right out.”

Yang watched her go, letting her gaze linger on her girlfriend’s retreating form. 

So, maybe a sleepover wasn’t out of the question, she thought with a mischievous little grin while setting up the movie.

* * *

Hours later, Yang felt the strong desire to sleep pulling at her but didn’t want to submit just yet. Ever since Winter had exited the bathroom- clad in sweatpants, socks, and an oversized shirt that read ‘DRAGON TAMER’ that the blonde had gotten her as a half joking, half serious gift before they started dating- the two had snuggled on the couch and ran through movie after movie, alternating between being wrapped up in the story lines and riffing on the little details. All in all, a really great date that let them unwind.

So, the question became… now what?

“Hey, Snowdrift?” She tilted her head to look back over her shoulder. “You tired?”

“Yeah,” she replied, her clear enunciation traded for a slow drawl. “Would it be too much to ask for a sleepover?”

“Nah! But, I have  _one_  condition.” Rolling over, she snuck in for a kiss. “No sleeping on the couch. Ya gotta sleep in my bed with me.”

“Oh, your demand is so high.” Her girlfriend’s sleepy smile melted her heart. “Fine. But, despite my words earlier-”

“Sleep now. Sex in the morning?”

“Amenable.”

“Great!” Yang got up, suddenly more than a bit energetic but trying to calm herself down. A prolonged cuddle session with morning sex a possibility? It might as well be her birthday. Her girlfriend followed her, yawning as she stood up and stretched. “Can I call dibs on- whoa.”

“Hm?” Winter reached up, running a hand through her hair before noting the blonde’s slack jawed expression. “Sundrop? Something wrong?”

“You’re shorter than me.”

Several synapses continued to fail. How had she missed that? Standing side by side, she could see that she had an inch or two over Winter, but how?

“Oh, right.” A light blush came to the woman’s cheeks. “It’s… always been a bit of a sore spot that I’m not quite as tall as my mother, so I wear boots with heels to… mitigate that. I rarely wear anything else.” Confused by the ensuing silence, Winter raised a brow. “… Yang?”

“I’m sorry, I swear I’m not trying to be insensitive, and I was going to ask before because I really wanted to, but can I be the big spoon tonight? I mean, if not, that’s okay, and it really doesn’t matter to me if you’re taller or shorter than me, I swear, but now I  _really_  wanna be the big spoon, and-”

With a chuckle, Winter put a finger to her lips to silence the stream of thoughts pouring from her mouth. “That sounds nice.” Her eyes twinkled, lips curling into a mischievous smile. “Would you like to carry me to bed?”

“DO I?” Surging forward, she literally swept her girlfriend off her feet amid a surprised but giddy laugh, craning her neck to pepper kisses wherever she could reach. “I’m so glad we did this.”

“Have you been this eager to bridal carry me into your bedroom? You should’ve mentioned it before.”

“Honestly, it’s not that.” Her smile widened. “How many people know your real height?”

“ _Very_  few.”

“And  _I’m_  one of them.” Her chest swelled with pride and affection as her girlfriend chuckled. 

“Indeed you are.” Winter drew her into a proper kiss. “Now, let’s sleep. Maybe we can find out more  _little_  details about each other tomorrow.”

Rubbing their noses together, Yang started for her bedroom, absolutely ecstatic.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It was brought up that Winter might be shorter than Yang sans boots, so I decided to play with that a little.


	15. Watch Over You

Based on a suggestion by Ziima on the Elderburnin’ Discord, inspired by [this song](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.youtube.com%2Fwatch%3Fv%3DLK3NuxO3Ke0&t=NjhlNTQ4MjM3ZmFlM2U3YWVlNmI5MjgyOTY4YjMxMTIxNGE0Mjg4NixJb1kzYkk4Uw%3D%3D&b=t%3Az_Eu3WPLqdh257Xpgz_c9A&p=http%3A%2F%2Ftexanredrose.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F174730562614%2Fwatch-over-you), Myles Kennedy's acoustic version of "Watch Over You". I advise you give it a listen before reading, as I’m busting out the old songfic. Also, be prepared for angst. I mean it. Don’t come at me ‘cause you’re crying in the club (but there is a happy ending). Also, warning for alcohol and drug abuse mention.

* * *

Yang sat on the edge of the fountain, lilac eyes unseeing as she stared down at the guitar in her lap. She had so many fond memories of this place- dates and gatherings and just walking through to enjoy the brisk night air. Playing on one of the benches with her girlfriend, their voices and chords filling the air, and even getting a few lien tossed into their guitar cases, though they didn’t make a habit of busking too often. Just when they wanted to enjoy the music, and the warm pleasure of a small audience… but those were only memories now. Never to be lived again. **  
**

“Yang?” It stung, a little, but only just; it made sense that Winter wouldn’t use the pet name that had fallen so effortlessly from her lips in the past. Not after the blonde had packed up her guitar and essentials, leaving their apartment almost a month ago to try and drive a point home.

A point that, sadly, wasn’t heeded.

Looking up, Yang locked eyes with the woman. She looked so much thinner than before, with heavy bags under her eyes and a shake to her shoulders, no longer held in Winter’s usual poise. They were hunched over and she looked so frail- a shadow of her former self.

But her heart hardened against the sight. She’d asked the woman to come tonight for one reason and one reason only.

Settling her guitar in her lap, she began strumming, picking out the notes for a song she’d spent the past month writing. They’d always connected with their music; it seemed the only language left to her.

 _“Leaves are on the ground, fall has come, blue skies turning grey, like my love.”_  She sang the words softly to start, gathering courage as she went.  _“I tried to carry you, and make you whole, but it was never enough, I must go.”_

A year ago, they were happy.  _So_  happy. Fall had just started setting in and they were working on an album together. They might never make the billboards but that didn’t matter; as long as they had a roof over their heads, they’d be alright. They’d make do.

But then the summons came, the military making good on their promise to call Winter back to active duty. A short tour, she’d been assured, a simple mission.

The first proved true. The second? No…

 _“Who is gonna save you, when I’m gone?”_  Yang didn’t have the strength to look up yet but her voice now filled the night air, along with the chords.  _“And who’ll watch over you, when I’m gone?”_

She didn’t recognize the woman who came back from war. Winter jumped at almost everything, snapped at almost everyone, got frustrated so easily, and, at first, Yang was patient. The woman always apologized the moment she came to her senses, she never meant to raise her voice, to flinch, to clench her fist- she just wasn’t  _there_.

So, Yang waited. She waited for Winter- the  _real_  Winter- to come back.

 _“You say you care for me, but hide it well.”_  Her eyes darted up then, filled with accusation.  _“How can you love someone, and not yourself?”_

It took two months after returning before the woman she loved started losing even more of herself. First, to drink. Then, to drugs. And Yang could handle the smell of booze on her lover’s breath, the rank stench of dried alcohol on her clothes- she could. But not the needles. Not the withdrawals. Not the moods swings and the arguments and the constant fighting- no, not that.

 _“Who is gonna save you, when I’m gone?”_  She tried, though. Yang went and picked Winter up- off the floor of bars, off the street, off the floor of their apartment. She did her best.  _“And who’ll watch over you, when I’m gone?”_

But her best could only hold out for so long.

_“And when I’m gone, who will break your fall? Who will you blame?”_

A month ago, she reached her breaking point. Between trying to keep the rent paid and her girlfriend from overdosing, Yang found her limit and she did something she  _swore_  she’d never do: she laid down an ultimatum.

Either Winter checked herself into rehab or they were through.

 _“I can’t go on, and let you lose it all, it’s more than I can take.”_  But she continued seeing her girlfriend,  _calling_  Winter her girlfriend, because she believed the woman would snap out of it, would realize that she had to  _do_  something. But a month later… she had to draw a line.  _“Who’ll ease your pain? Ease your pain…”_

Tears slipped out. She’d tried her hardest to hold them back but the memories had started mixing together- the soft afternoons, the shouting matches, watching movies together, dragging the woman out of some seedy bar, playing and laughing and the passionate kisses, and the cold shoulders and dirty needles and glasses thrown against the walls.

The woman she loved and the person she’d become.

 _“Who is gonna save you when I’m gone? Who’ll watch over you?”_  She almost choked on a sob, doing her best to bite it back and keep singing, because she couldn’t bend now. She couldn’t break. Whoever stood in front of her, with those blue eyes glistening with tears, it wasn’t the woman she loved. It wasn’t her Snowdrift.  _“Who will give you strength when you’re not strong. Who’ll watch over you when I’ve gone away?”_

Almost as if on cue, soft flakes of snow began falling from the sky. It was the arbitrary deadline she’d set, because between the two of them, Yang was the one who loved snow, especially the first snowfall of the year. She’d drag Winter out, both bundled up against the chill, and watch it come down.

But not this year.

 _“Snow is on the ground, winter’s come.”_  She summoned all her strength for the final lines.  _“You long to hear my voice, but I’m long gone…”_

And she could see in the woman’s eyes that Winter understood. That this was it.

The final notes faded in the air as the snow continued to fall around them. The tears hadn’t stopped for Yang but she’d accomplished when she set out to and stood up, reaching for her case.

“Yang-”

“I said all I needed.” If she let herself listen to one more excuse… she honestly didn’t know  _what_  would happen, so she refused, busied herself with locking away her guitar and slinging the case’s strap over her shoulder.

“Please, just-”

The crinkle of paper caught her attention, and she turned around to see Winter holding something out. Slowly- and against her better judgment- she reached out and took it, glancing at it briefly before her brows furrowed, staring down at the little slip of paper.

A letter of admission to a rehab program.

“I know it’s too late.” Lilac eyes looked up, watching tears fall down Winter’s cheeks. The woman hated crying- hated even more to be  _seen_  crying but, here, they cut lines down her haggard face. “I know I can’t take it back. I know I can’t get it back- get… you…” She paused, swallowing hard, likely forcing down a sob. “I just- I need to know. I can- I only get a few… personal effects.” She reached into her pocket and grabbed something out, holding it towards Yang. “May I take this? That’s… all I want to know. Just- just a nod or- or a shake. I won’t… I won’t ask you to say more.”

She looked down at it- a photograph, worn at the edges and weathered, faded by a sun that shone down on a land far away from their home. The two of them, smiling wide, guitars in their laps on a sunny day in this very park, faces pressed together as they looked at the camera…

“You still have this?” She couldn’t help the question as it left her lips. Winter had showed it to her before- the picture of them the woman had carried in the pocket of her uniform every day while she was gone.

“It’s the only thing that brought me back.” Her voice cracked and she looked away, sniffling even as her tears continued. The woman had always been so… dignified. “I’d like to keep it. Take it with me. Even if… even  _though_  it’s a thing of the past.”

Yang almost took it all back. Almost. “Yeah.” She handed the photo back. “Sure.”

“Thank you.” Winter carefully tucked it back into her jacket, the fabric sitting so awkwardly on her frame. “I… put the rest of my things into storage so… the apartment’s yours.”

Slowly, she nodded. Part of why she’d brought the woman out to the park was so Blake could use her key and clear out her things- the important stuff, at least. A clean break. “Alright.”

They stood there, the snow falling all around them, words lodged in throats until Winter cleared hers. “I… have a cab waiting. I’m checking in tonight.”

“You’d better get going, then.”

“Right.” She nodded, taking a step away but lingering for just a moment. And, Maidens help her, but Yang almost gave in, because for a moment, she saw a glimmer of the Winter she loved when blue eyes, still crying, looked back at her. “For what it’s worth… I’m sorry. I’m sorry for being an idiot this whole time. I’m  _so_  sorry.”

“That doesn’t erase what you’ve done,” she said, somehow summoning the strength to rehash the very argument they had the night Yang walked out.

But unlike then, Winter nodded. “You’re absolutely right.”

Then she turned around, going back the way she came.

But she couldn’t let those be the last words from her mouth. “Winter.” The woman stopped and looked back. “… good luck.”

A weak, watery smile. “Thank you. You too, Yang.”

In blue eyes, she saw the same words she’d held back. Because even through everything, she still loved Winter- the  _real_  Winter, the woman she could see barely starting to come back. Not saying the words ‘I love you’ turned out to be the hardest part… but Winter held them back, too.

They knew they still loved each other. Maybe that’s what mattered.

Shoving her hands into her pockets, she turned away and started walking, head down and shivering slightly against the light chill. She thought she’d feel lighter or, at least, more at peace… but a question kept whispering in the back of her mind, so she pulled out her scroll.

“Hey,” Blake said, the moment the line connected. “How’d it go?”

“Did you move my stuff?”

Feline ears twitched. “No.”

“So, you knew.” She sniffled, the sob she’d held down bubbling up. “You knew she got in.”

“Yeah.” Her lips pressed into a thin line. “But you didn’t make the decision to do this for her, Yang. You did it for you. Regardless of her actions,  _you_  needed it. You needed to say goodbye. And she needs to do this not for you but for herself. She’s been leaning on you for too long. She needs to use her own feet.”

Her eyes squeezed shut. “I love her.”

“I know you do, Yang. No one’s ever doubted that.” Another sob and a stuttering breath. “Come back to your apartment. I’m going to stay with you for a few weeks, okay?”

“M’kay.” She hung up, scrubbing at her face, trying to stem the flow of her tears.

She loved Winter, she missed her more than anything… and she’d had to let her go to save her own sanity.

The snow clinging to her hair felt cold and she hurried her steps to get out of the weather.

* * *

Winter sighed, sitting back and running a hand over her face. Another dozen job applications- that seemed like a good stopping point for the day. While she didn’t mind the job the program arranged for her at the local grocery store, she needed something a bit more challenging, more engaging.

Pushing away from the computer, she logged off and went to the mailroom, nodding and greeting the various service members also occupying the wing. She’d made a few ‘friends’, in a sense, but truly prized the quiet time in her room. As soon as she stopped to see if Weiss had dropped anything off for her, she’d probably retreat and listen to the new album she’d bought last week.

It hadn’t made the number one spot but it did alright. Winter thought it did better than it would have had she continued working on it; Yang had a way with lyrics and chords, and her voice just had a raw sort of passion that could move just about anyone. She thought it might’ve hurt more, all the songs being entirely unfamiliar, not a single one they’d worked on together appearing, but she just felt… happy and proud.

Yang… she deserved it. And so much more.

“Ah, hello, Ms. Schnee.” The man everyone called ‘General’ smiled. “You have a package.”

“From my sister?” Despite stopping by, she hadn’t actually thought Weiss brought her anything; it was more because routine, she’d found, soothed her.

“No.” His lips curled into a smile, handing over a box wrapped in plain brown paper.

Winter raised a brow but shrugged- perhaps Blake had brought her another book- and accepted it, heading back to her room before tearing the paper off and opening the box, shaking out the contents.

Her heart stopped in her chest as cool metal fell into her hand.

A custom picture frame, with a little white snowflake and a little yellow heart, silver bordering the same picture she had sitting on her desk in a cheap picture frame she’d bought with her first paycheck.

Tears immediately sprang to her eyes, the action of wiping them away drawing her attention to the little folded piece of paper that had fallen to the floor. With a shaking hand she picked it up and unfolded it.

 _Snowflake-_  
Congratulations on six months sober. Weiss says the program allows visitors. If it’s okay, I’d like to stop by. Call me?   
-Sundrop

And a number written at the bottom.

Winter set the picture on her desk, beside the one faded one, and went straight to the scroll bank, almost running through the halls.

In the back of her mind, she told herself to not hope. Yang… had always been so forgiving, so affectionate, so loving- the return of their pet names didn’t mean anything, really.

But just hearing her voice again…

After signing in with the attendant, she sat down at a terminal and dialed the number, nerves frayed as it rang. She tried rehearsing what she’d say if Yang had changed her mind, if she went to voicemail, but all too soon the line connected and- and there she was.

It felt like years since she’d seen the woman. The time away at war and the fog that had consumed her upon returning- all her memories of that time were blurry and disjointed. The faded photo had served as her only concrete connection to the love of her life- to the woman she’d driven away in her selfish downward spiral- but it didn’t compare to the screen before her. Shining lilac eyes, a bit of a glow to her cheeks, golden hair tousled in her trademark style, and a smile that could light up a room- in an instant, she fell in love, all over again.

“Yang.” By some miracle, she’d retained enough of her composure to not let the pet name slip. She didn’t have that right anymore. “You’re glowing.”

“Yeah, I’ve been getting a lot of that recently.” The blonde laughed, a free and joyous sound. Oh, she’d missed it so much. “You’re looking better yourself.”

“Sobriety is a good look for me.” She scrambled, reaching for something- she didn’t want to encroach on boundaries but she wanted to say  _something_.

As usual, Yang beat her to the punch. “It really is.” She shifted a bit. “Hey, listen. I… wanted to swing by. It’s… been a while since we last saw each other. And…” A pause, a little twitch at the corner of her mouth. “I miss my friend.”

It both did and didn’t hurt. “I’ve missed my friend, too. If- if tomorrow works for you-”

“It does.”

“Four o’clock?”

“Sounds perfect.” An easy smile. “So. How far along are you in the program?”

“I’m, uh… a little hung up on step nine.”

And her smile widened. “I have the weirdest timing, then, don’t I?”

Talking to Yang had always been easier than drinking water and she fell back into the rhythm without a second thought.

* * *

The next day, she waited near the foyer nervously. She’d put on her best suit, pulled her hair back into the bun she used to wear all the time, even used a little bit of perfume- she wanted to make a good impression. That she  _really_  was doing better.

But, in the back of her mind, she very firmly reminded herself that she’d burned her bridges. She could make her apologies but she couldn’t demand or expect forgiveness.

“Winter?”

Her head snapped up, a smile spreading on her lips given pause as her eyes went wide.

Yang waddled towards her-  _waddled_  because of the size of her belly, and for a moment, she thought her heart might burst.

“You’re pregnant?” Her lips pulled into a smile, because while it  _hurt_ , Winter could see the way the woman absolutely glowed with happiness at the acknowledgement. And that mattered  _much_  more. “Congratulations! Boy, girl- how far along are you, how have you been, why didn’t you mention this yesterday-”

“Okay,  _one_  question at a time, please?” She laughed, such a bright sound, and accepted Winter’s help over to the nearest table. “And, hey, this place ain’t so bad. Still a little surprised you didn’t want to meet in a coffee shop, though.”

“I, uh, I’m still… restricted in where I can go.” A small shrug. “Military sponsored rehab programs are a bit more rigorous. I need nine months sober before I can start… going out again.”

“You must be going stir crazy.” Yang settled into the chair and sighed heavily in relief. “Ah, I feel like a whale. Seven months of this has been ridiculous, lemme tell ya.”

Winter nearly missed the chair when she went to sit town, somehow transitioning the motion into something  _slightly_  more respectable, though she didn’t miss the amused twinkle in lilac eyes. “Seven-  _seven_  months?”

“Yeah.” And just like that, the blonde’s good mood evaporated, expression turning hard. “And I don’t know the sex- I didn’t want to know. Not until I talked to you.”

“Me? It’s- the baby’s mine?” She immediately put her hands up at the slight scowl leveled her way. “I’m not- no, I mean, I’m just a little- little taken off guard, I’m not implying that you, I just-” Stopping, she composed herself. “Yang, it’s the first time I’ve seen you in six months and you’re pregnant. I thought… maybe you’d found someone and…”

Her lips pressed into a tight line. “I went on a few dates. Before and after I found out.” A sigh slipped past her lips, the line of her shoulders relaxing. “But… then I stopped. Dating, I mean- I just wasn’t into it.”

“Then… you’ve been… going through all this-”

“I have Blake and Weiss. Ruby’s been around, too, and she has all her friends taking shifts checking on me, it feels like. I haven’t been alone.” A little softness came back to her expression. “Oh, and don’t hold it against Weiss. I know she’s your sister but I told her she couldn’t tell you. You needed to focus on this.”

“No, I understand.” And she meant it, every word. “You made the best decision you could and she respected your wishes. If there’s anyone to blame for my absence, it’s me.”

“Is that all you have to say?”

“What do you want me to say, Yang?” Tears stung at her eyes but she held them back- not out of pride but because she’d seen the way her tears had almost broken the woman’s resolve six months ago. She wouldn’t use her own pain to force Yang’s hand. “That I wish I was there? Because, I do. But I also realize that if I’d just listened to you and gotten help, I would’ve been there.”

“If you had gotten help, I probably wouldn’t be pregnant right now.”

“But we’d still be together,” she said and nearly cursed, leaning back in her seat and passing a hand over her face. “I mean, we might be. We might’ve had a chance, at least. To…”

“To start a family?”

Winter looked up and met Yang’s gaze. “Yes.”

“Do you think we can? Now?” She gestured between the two- well, three- of them. “Do you think we can be a family?”

Her mouth opened, words ready to pour out, but she held them in check, examined them, tossed them aside. Begging for a chance right now- that wasn’t the answer Yang deserved.

“I’m not sure,” she replied, speaking from the heart- not what she  _wanted_  but what they both  _needed_. “Do I want to be? Yes, of course. Yang, you- you’re still the love of my life. I want nothing more than to be with you, with our child.” She paused to breathe, to steady her voice. “But you deserve to be with someone who will love you, cherish you- someone you can trust to not hurt you, and I  _did_. I hurt you. I broke you down, I wore you out, I grinded every part of you-  _I_  did that. It- it was the addiction and the fear and the self loathing, yes, but it was  _my_ decision to fall deeper into it when you did everything you could to get me help. I didn’t listen to you when you needed me to… and that was wrong of me.” Tears slipped out but she quickly wiped them away, shoving aside the agony the words brought. They needed to be said. “So, if you can’t trust me to not hurt you, then we can’t be a family. I broke your trust once, Yang, and it’s not up to me to determine if I should get a second chance. But I  _know_  you deserve more than the doubt and the worry and the pain. Our…  _your_  child deserves better, too.” Her eyes flicked down, a thousand daydreams she’d entertained over the years flashing in front of her eyes. “I’m sorry for all I’ve done, Yang. For letting my addictions overpower everything else, for turning away from you except when it served  _me_ , for hurting you, and watching you hurting, and just making it worse. I don’t know of anything I can do to make amends- it’s, it’s what’s had me hung up for so long, because I don’t think I can. If something occurs to you, let me know, but just… I  _am_  sorry, Yang. From the depths of my soul, I am, and I wish beyond anything that I could take it all back.”

For her part, the blonde remain stern. “Are you saying that because you think it’ll sway me?”

“No.” A short, weak chuckle burst from her lips. “Yang… you’ve always been the sort to stick with your gut. The entire time you’ve been sitting there, you haven’t changed your mind; you’d made it up long before you walked in here.” She looked down for a moment, trying to hide the way that single truth hurt. “You’ve probably known since the moment you found out you were pregnant whether or not I’d ever be part of that child’s life.”

“You’re right.” Yang nodded. “I told myself I wouldn’t let that lousy addict anywhere near my child. I grew up wondering where one parent had gone and living with an alcoholic; I will  _not_ let any kid of mine go through that combined in one. I’ll tell them exactly what happened to the no-account ass who couldn’t even pick herself off the floor most nights.”

There was a little heat to the words and, as much as they stung, Winter accepted them, because she was right- she was  _absolutely_  right. And even if she still loved Yang with all her heart, she’d never nurtured the hope that she might take her back. She’d known about Raven and Qrow, about how the blonde had to grow up so fast to help raise Ruby- and she made her mistakes anyway. Another of her many, many faults. “I understand.”

For a moment, lilac eyes watched her, as if waiting for the other shoe to drop. When it didn’t, she tilted her head to the side. “So why are you still here?”

“Because I can’t be that person again.” She shook her head. “Our apartment was the place where the happiest moments of my life happened. And I turned it into the home of my childhood- broken, littered with alcohol and regrets and shattered promises and broken dreams.” Again, tears stung at her eyes, keenly recalling the night about a week after Yang walked out when she’d sobered up enough to have a startling moment of clarity, when she’d looked around the apartment at the patched holes in the wall and the broken glass and the mess and her own busted guitar and it hit her like a sucker punch what she’d done, what she’d irreparably destroyed. “I took the greatest thing to ever happened to me and twisted it into something awful. And I can’t go back to being that person again. And I can’t forgive myself for letting it happen in the first place. That’s why I’m here.”

That was something she was still working on with her counselor. They butted heads over it constantly. He wanted her to forgive herself but how could she? How could she  _ever_  forgive herself now?

“You need to forgive yourself,” Yang said, getting up from her chair and waving off her attempts to get up and help. “On top of finishing out this program, you need to do that.”

“How can I-”

“You can and you will.” Lilac eyes fell on her, pinning her in place. “You need to close this chapter in your life. You can’t take it back, you can’t change it, but as long as you cling to that guilt, you’re carrying that demon around with you. And you can’t have that.” Yang reached out and grabbed her wrist, lifted it so her hand could rest on the woman’s belly. “We both need you to put it to rest.”

Winter opened her mouth to say something but the words caught in her throat as she felt something- no, as she felt her unborn child kick or punch or  _something_ , moving around, right there, just beneath her fingertips.

“I told myself I wouldn’t let that addict anywhere near my kid.” Her expression softened again, the barest hints of a smile at the corners of her mouth. “But… I want my Snowdrift back. I want the woman I fell in love with back. I want that woman to be with me to raise our child.” Her eyes watered. “I didn’t know who I’d find until I walked in here, but I knew I’d see one or the other, and the decision would be made.” Two tears slipped down her cheeks. “And I found my Snowdrift.”

It took a moment to process. For her to truly believe what she’d heard.

And then, another kick under her hand.

“Yang…” Her tongue darted out, wetting her lips as she took a gamble. “… Sundrop.”

Yang laughed, and it sounded just as bright and happy but also wet, like a sob had gotten caught in there somewhere. “Maidens, it’s been  _so long_  since I’ve heard that.”

Winter stood up, knowing better than to go for a kiss so soon but unable to stop herself from wrapping the blonde up in her arms- slightly awkward, what with her belly, but that just made it better as she began crying in earnest, and for the first time in far too long they were tears of joy. “We’re having a baby.”

“Yeah… we are.” When arms wrapped around her, Winter’s eyes slid shut, and she couldn’t believe how  _incredibly stupid_  she’d been to ever give this up, to think anything could be better than this feeling. “I’ll talk to the administration. I’m sure they can grant special leave or something; I want you to be there when they’re born.”

“I’m sure they’ll be compassionate. I’ve been a model participant.” She winced. “Well… after my withdrawals, anyway.”

“Oh, I can imagine.” She winced again. “But…”

“It’s in the past. Never again.” Quickly, Winter did the math in her head. “By the time I complete the program, the baby will be four months old.”

“Around that, yeah.”

“Will you… when you get the chance, will you bring them around for a visit? Until I get my privileges? Then we could… go to the park or something-”

“One step at a time, okay?” Yang chuckled. “But, that’s a good idea. We’ll revisit it later.”

Although she’d drawn back a little, Winter remained loathe to break all contact completely and, blessedly, the woman in her arms seemed of a similar mind. They stood there, only as far apart as Yang’s belly forced them to be.  “Have you… thought about names?”

A pause, lilac eyes darting to the side. “I was thinking… Summer Willow Schnee.”

“I…” She swallowed thickly. “I think ‘Xiao Long’ would be more appropriate.”

Yang chuckled. “Yeah, but, four names? Kinda a mouthful.”

“It’s a good name,” she replied. “It’s yours.”

A hum and a smile. “So… if my guess is right, you don’t have a guitar here, do you?” She shook her head. “Mind if I bring mine next time I come?”

Winter smiled wide. “Are you gonna play for me?”

“Actually… I’d like to hear you play.” Her shoulders fell a little. “When I was putting together my album, I went back and listened to the demos we recorded together. I just… couldn’t do the songs on my own; they don’t sound the same without you.”

Well, that explained the album, at least. “I’m… probably more than a little out of practice… but I’d love to.”

“Great.” She nodded towards the entrance. “I, uh, have to get going. Can’t exactly ride a motorcycle like this and Ruby’s waiting in the parking lot.”

“Oh, of course. Thank you, for coming by… and…” There were  _so_  many other things she wanted to say right then, but she settled for another gamble, following Yang’s left arm down to gently hold her hand, lifting it up so she could brush a soft kiss against her knuckles.

And much to her relief, the woman laughed. “That’s exactly how you introduced yourself the first time we met. Fitting for a fresh start.” She turned, proceeding to waddle her way out. “Don’t let me down, Snowdrift.”

“I won’t, Sundrop.” She watched Yang go, scrubbing at her eyes a few more times. She’d dreamed a hundred times of seeing the woman again, but none ended like this- and this was *real*. Once the blonde had vanished from her sight, she turned and went straight to the library. “Doctor Goodwitch? Are there any books about child rearing here?” For a moment, the doctor’s gaze flicked down to her belly. “Not me- my partner, she’s pregnant, and I won’t complete the program before the baby’s born.”

“Oh, well, congratulations.” Her brows drew together. “Is… this the same partner you spoke about in group? The one you lost because of your addiction.”

“Yes.” And, Maidens forgive her, but she couldn’t wipe the smile from her lips. “She’s taking me back. We’re- we’re going to start a family.”

“Well, now,  _that_  is some powerful motivation. Not that you didn’t already have plenty.” She beckoned her forward with two fingers. “Follow me.”

Winter still had months to go before she could be out but she wouldn’t spend her time sitting idly by, no- that was exactly what she’d done after coming home, and it lead to her filling the hours with drink and worse.

She would  _not_  make that mistake again.

 _Never_  again.


	16. Oh, My Mistake

 

Yang cursed under her breath, setting her hands on her hips and casting her lilac gaze around, a pinch to her brow. Now, sure, she’d never been the absolute biggest neat freak in Remnant, but she kept her belongings more or less organized- enough that, when she wanted to watch one of her favorite movies, she could find it with ease. It could only be in one of three places, all of which she’d checked.

No dice.

“Oh, come on,” she said, running a hand over her face. “Where is it?”

Closing her eyes, she tried to piece together the last time she’d watched it or moved the case. Months ago, at least, but maybe even more.

Wait… now she remembered the last time she’d seen it- almost a year ago. Back before… her ex moved her stuff out.

“Shit…” Her lips pulled into a tight, thin line, gaze casting about for her scroll. 

They hadn’t spoken since the relationship ended but… well, they hadn’t parted on  _bad_  terms. Winter had an exciting career in the military and a promising new assignment elsewhere; Yang had her own shop and family to consider. When the woman suggested that they probably wouldn’t be able to continue the relationship long distance, they’d ended it amicably… but that didn’t make it hurt any less. 

Yang had tried going out on a few dates since then. None of them led anywhere but, hell, she  _had_  tried.

Still, the idea of reaching out to her ex to see if the woman had accidentally packed up her favorite movie didn’t magically become any more appealing. It’d likely just hurt like hell and lead nowhere but she really  _did_  love that movie.

She should just buy a new copy, honestly. It’d probably be pretty cheap; older movie, none of the flashy special effects like modern ones, and it’d be quicker and relatively painless.

Then again, she kinda had a special attachment to  _her_  copy; she’d had it nearly ten years. And, even if it hurt, just having the chance to talk with Winter again… it’d be worth it.

With a sigh, Yang located her scroll and shot off a quick text.

_‘Hey, I know this is out of the blue, but you wouldn’t happen to have my Monty Python and the Holy Grail dvd by mistake, did you?’_

Setting her scroll down, the blonde went over to her movie collection to start putting it back in some semblance of order, expecting the response would take at least an hour, probably more.

But then her scroll dinged before she’d made it halfway across her room.

_‘I do, actually. I apologize. I can have it to your apartment by tomorrow morning.’_

Her brows rose, surprised both by the prompt response and the urgency with which the woman seemed to want to return the movie.

_‘You don’t have to go through all that trouble; I just was wondering where it went.’_

_‘Nonsense. I’ll have it delivered as soon as possible.’  
_

She couldn’t help the way her lips curled up, just a little. That sounded like the Winter she knew.

 _‘Well, if you insist.’_  Lightly, she bit her lip, thumbs hesitating for a moment before setting her scroll aside. And focusing on finding another movie to pass her time.

They’d gone this long without any contact. Probably for the best.

* * *

Yang groaned as she pulled herself out of bed, having slept for shit the night before. Hours had passed with her just wondering if, perhaps, she should’ve tried extending an olive branch to Winter. The woman typically didn’t remain in contact with her exes, though, so Yang had assumed that would apply to her as well.

But…  _she had the chance_. She could’ve at least  _tried_.

The thought remained in the back of her mind throughout her morning ritual, all the way until she tried leaving her apartment and found a man in a delivery uniform coming up the steps.

“Yang Xiao Long?”

“Uh, yeah?”

Then he held out a little brown box. “Here you go, delivery.”

She raised a brow but signed for the package anyway, taking the moment to open it up once he’d left.

Sure enough, Winter had done exactly as she said, as the DVD case slid out into her palm. However… it looked a bit more worn than she remembered and the bottom snap didn’t seem to be working, the edge worn too smooth to catch and close properly.

A frown touched her lips. Had the woman been watching it? Winter had made it clear that she didn’t really have the same appreciation for comedy the way Yang did. Whenever they watched it together, she seemed a touch more interested in her scroll than the movie, but usually spent her time watching Yang’s enjoyment- that, apparently, appealed to her a great deal more.

Setting it aside for the moment, she went out to her motorcycle, so she could get on with her day.

But this wasn’t over.

* * *

Taking off her helmet, Yang shook her hair out as she entered her apartment, setting everything in its place as quickly as she could and pulling out her scroll. She’d told Ruby about texting Winter and her sister seemed to be on the same page, encouraging her to follow her gut.

Extending an olive branch couldn’t hurt worse than never knowing.

_‘Hey, they delivered the movie this morning. I’m impressed!’_

_‘I’m glad you got it in a timely manner.’  
_

_‘Thanks, really. I’ve been missing it.’_ Her tongue peaked out as she hesitated for a moment before just plowing ahead with what seemed to be the easiest option available.  _‘So, how have you been? That assignment seems to be work outing for you.’_

_‘It’s been an enriching opportunity. I got promoted a few months ago. It’s been good. How’s the shop?’  
_

_‘Hey, congrats on the promotion! And, ya know how it goes. Ruby’s still the best mechanic in Vytal, so our business is doing pretty well. Never a dull moment!’  
_

_‘I’m glad to hear that. I’ve heard a whisper or two about Red Dragon over here in Atlas- all good, I assure you. You and Ruby should look into branding.’  
_

_‘Eh, you know it’s not about the fame or money for her.’_  Yang chuckled.  _‘There might be millions of red roses out there, but there’s only one Ruby Rose!’_  

Almost immediately, she slapped a hand to her face. As much as she loved puns- as much as Winter said she loved puns while they were dating- that didn’t mean she should just start busting them out all willy nilly. Especially when half her flirting depended on them. She wouldn’t want to give the woman the wrong idea.

Or, rather, she wouldn’t want Winter guessing the truth behind her desire to reconnect. Even if they couldn’t be  _together_ , losing her girlfriend had also robbed her of a dear friend, and if she couldn’t get the former back, she’d try like hell for the latter.

_‘You’re most certainly correct. She certainly rises above expectations.’_

A little chuckle burst from her lips.  _‘Okay, that one was pretty good.’_

_‘I practice in my spare time. I’ve got a Xiao Long way to go, though.’  
_

This time, she laughed.  _‘And Xiao Long have you waited to use that?’_

_‘Almost a year, truthfully, and you didn’t have to one up me immediately after. I’ve always kicked myself that I didn’t realize it before we broke up.’  
_

Her lips quirked into a sad little smile. ‘ _Hindsight’s a bitch, huh? lol’_

_‘I’m learning to live with it.’  
_

_‘If only your sister could find her sense of humor. She’s still a little sore about my last prank.’  
_

_‘In her defense, you know how much she enjoys Blake’s cooking, so swapping their salt and sugar did toe the line. I’m surprised she just yelled at you; I’d half expect her to tamper with your hair care products for such a transgression.’  
_

She ducked her head, scratching behind her ear as a blush came to her cheeks. Yeah, it  _did_  kinda go a step too far, but how was she supposed to know she’d made the swap  _immediately_  before a romantic date night they’d planned months ahead of time?

 _‘Okay, fair point, and I honestly expected the same. I threw out all my bottles the next day just to be safe.’_  She shook her head, remembering fondly all the times she’d gotten one over on either her best friend or her girlfriend’s sister, and the lectures that followed. Sometimes, Winter would agree with Weiss while hiding a smile behind her hand and, other times, she’d be too busy laughing. _‘One of these days, someone’s going to slip past my defenses, and there’ll be hell to pay.’_

_‘Are you vaguely threatening a hypothetical prankster for giving you a taste of your own medicine?’  
_

_‘Well… yeah.’_ She cringed at the blatant hypocrisy implied.  _‘It’s my hair we’re talking about, here.’_

_‘Duly noted.’  
_

A shake of her head. She could just  _picture_  the wry grin on the woman’s face when she typed that, the expression that said ‘you know how ridiculous you sound, right?’ in not so many words.  _‘You must REALLY miss me, huh?’_

_‘Yes, I do. A little more with each passing day.’  
_

That sent a shock through her system- her shoulders dropped, a frown touching her lips. She’d always thought Winter had moved on without giving her a second thought; it would explain the radio silence from that end. To find out that the woman still thought about her… or maybe she misunderstood.

_‘Really? You never said anything.’_

_‘It was my idea to break up. I heard you were dating again and I thought it would be best to become a memory and fade away.’  
_

A little stinging came to her eyes.  _‘I could never forget you, Winter.’_

 _‘Nor I you.’_  Before she could formulate a response, another text came through. ‘ _I have something of a confession. I realized I’d packed up your movie a month after I left. I apologize for the delay in returning it to you.’_

Yang’s brows furrowed. _‘I thought you didn’t even like that movie, though. Why keep it?’_

Silence. She stared at her scroll but nothing happened. After five minutes, she began to worry; Winter had always been the sort to favor a clear beginning and ending to a conversation. She didn’t just… trail off like that. Following her gut, Yang tapped on the information at the top and hit the icon to dial, pressing the scroll to her ear.

“Yang,” Winter said, a strange edge to her voice. Not the razor sharp bite of her wit but rather something very… soft, almost morose.

“Hey, is everything okay?” She sat down on her couch, having completely forgotten about finding another movie. “Or- you busy? I can call back.”

“No, no, s’fine.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Winter. Are you  _drunk_?”

“… yeah…” The reply came softly, almost as if she was ashamed to admit it. “I mean, I’m drinking. Not…  _exactly_  drunk yet, but… pretty much.”

“What’s going on? This… isn’t like you.” Yang shook her head. “I mean, you might have a glass of wine but you always hated the idea of getting drunk.”

“Well, I do, that, but, I made a discovery.” A sigh. “A pathetic one but a discovery nonetheless.”

“And what discovery was that?”

“Well…” A few moments passed, as if she struggled to find the words. “If I put on that movie, and I get just the  _right_  amount of drunk, and I close my eyes… I can hear you laughing along to the jokes.” 

The stinging came back to her eyes as a tear slipped down her cheek. “… Winter…”

“I know. I know I have no right, I know it was my idea, and I  _know I’m an idiot for ever suggesting it in the first place_.” A quick inhale- almost like she was sniffling. “I thought it was the best for both of us but I was  _so wrong_ … at least… for me… I’ve missed you so much, Yang.” A pause. “I still love you.”

“You sure kept silent about it.” She didn’t mean to make it sound so accusatory but her heart was starting to hurt in her chest, her mind racing.

A year-  _a year_ \- without the woman, and she’d held this back. All this time they’d lost…

“You were dating.” The shifting of fabric. “I shouldn’t have said that. Any of that. You… you deserve better than someone dumb enough to walk away in the first place.”

“That’s the alcohol talking,” she said. “What’s the  _real_  reason?”

Winter remained silent for a moment. “Why do Schnees always remain silent when merely speaking up might save someone pain?”

Oh, she remembered the answer to  _that_  question; it came from one of their first fights. What the actual argument entailed eluded her- something about improving their communication- but she remembered the answer clear as a bell. “Because you fear emotional vulnerability.” She sighed. “You thought I’d reject you.”

“And I couldn’t blame you for it.” Another sigh. “I shouldn’t have walked away. My career… it’s fulfilling, somewhat, but I’m so lonely without you. Every accomplishment just feels… hollow. Saying goodbye… is the biggest mistake I’ve ever made.”

“Winter.” She got to her feet, scrubbing at her face and heading towards her closet. “You need to stop drinking.”

“You’re right. I just thought, maybe-”

“I mean it.” Yang pinned her scroll to her ear with her shoulder while opening the door, eyes roving over her wardrobe. “Pour it out. Now.”

“Right.” Faintly, she could hear some shuffling, and eventually the setting of a glass in a sink. “Done.”

“Great! See you soon.”

“I’m so- uh. What?”

But she ended the call without explaining further. They’d talk again soon enough.

* * *

Yang pulled her coat a little tighter around her, digging her chin into the warm scarf around her neck. Atlas’ colder climate grated on her nerves, truth to tell, but she could really care less about the cold night air winding through her hair as she marched her way up the path, stopping in front of the door she wanted. Winter’s new promotion had allotted her a full house to herself tucked away in a nice, well kept part of the base- something the soldiers manning the gate were all too happy to reveal once they were told she was the Colonel’s ex. Apparently, word traveled around the barracks quickly that Winter’s mood had taken a sharp down turn once her assignment in Vale ended. She hadn’t become unbearable, quite, but the rank and file were more than willing to help her out if there existed even a  _chance_  it might improve the Officer’s disposition.

They weren’t the only ones.

Raising her hand, she knocked on the door- heavy thuds that couldn’t be ignored, in the event her advice hadn’t been heeded.

A few moments later, it opened to reveal Winter, halfway out of her uniform and hair freshly released from its bun, cascading over her shoulders with bends still intact from being up all day. Blue eyes opened wide, her mouth opening but no words making it out as a very light flush came to her cheeks, and Yang couldn’t help but smile.

“Not quite next morning delivery but I caught a red eye over.” She shrugged. “You sober?”

“Yes,” she replied, her voice sounding crisp and clean.

“Good.” Reaching into the big pocket on the bag slung over her shoulder, she fished out the DVD case. “How about we order some pizza and watch a movie? Sound good?”

“Yang…” It seemed like the gears in Winter’s head had finally started turning again. “I- I don’t understand. Why are you here?”

“Oh, right.” With her other hand, she reached forward, grabbed hold of the woman’s lapel, and gave a sharp tug- enough to pull her down within easy kissing distance, a fact Yang wasted no time capitalizing on as her eyes slipped closed.

Damnit; she’d missed this.

When they parted, both a little breathless, a smirk curled her lips. “That clear things up?”

Winter blinked. “No.” Hands slipped to her hips, pulling her forward and flush against the woman, a bit of mischief sparkling in blue eyes. “Explain it again?”

“I think I can do that,” she said, laughing before diving back in, the two slowly making their way inside amid the embrace.

After all, they lost a year together. 

They had to start making it up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I've been silent for a while- it's been hectic- but I'm coming back! If you wanna check out the big news, head over to my tumblr- texanredrose, same as here- for the skinny. Otherwise, hope y'all enjoy the barrage as I get caught up!


	17. Danger Line

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For Elderburn Week Day 2: Missing in Action… also, I’m not sorry.

Yang sighed, watching as Winter packed her duffel bag for the upteenth time. When they’d started dating, she’d acknowledged that being with a soldier meant long periods of being separated from each other, with Winter away on missions in one of the other kingdoms or stationed there for up to a year at a time. But six years into their relationship, it had just made the time they spent together all the sweeter, though the time apart never became easier to bear. Sure, she’d take the occasional Huntress gig to pass the time, but with Grimm numbers so low, that hardly proved much trouble. Barely a distraction at all, really.

“This is the last one.” Winter muttered, shoving a pair of boots into the bag. “I swear, I’ll not do this again.”

“But you love it,” she said, pushing off the wall to grab her girlfriend’s hand, stopping her from violently pushing in yet another pair of uniform pants. “You aren’t just going to up and quit the military.”

“Yes, I am.” Cool blue eyes flashed with steely resolve, something that remained curiously bereft the previous instances they’d had this particular conversation. “I didn’t mind these missions before but my priorities have changed. You’re pregnant now; I don’t want to run the risk of missing my own child’s birth.”

“Whoa, calm down.” Yang laughed, pulling the woman into an embrace. She remained a bit stiff, wound tight from frustration, but with two hands smoothing up and down her back, she relaxed by degrees, and a smile curled the blonde’s lips. After enough years, she had wonderful control over her prosthetic and could be gentle just like her other hand. “We  _just_  found out I was pregnant last week and this mission’s only projected to last four months. That’s  _plenty_  of time-”

“Assuming I come back on schedule.” Winter sighed, pressing a soft kiss to her temple. “This isn’t a training mission; I’m being sent to hunt down a dangerous terrorist cell in the Mantle Mountains. It’s treacherous terrain and a fanatically devout enemy- there’s a chance it’ll take longer. Or…”

She pulled back, slipping a hand to the back of her girlfriend’s neck to ensure they were looking at each other properly. “Hey. None of that, now, I don’t want you running off thinkin’ you’ve got everything to lose, because then you’re going to make a mistake.” Then, she smoothed her hands down the front of Winter’s military jacket, tugging lightly on the buttons. “I know this mission is more dangerous than the ones you’ve dealt with before and I know you’re scared about me and the baby. But I don’t need you distracted.” When her hands landed on the woman’s hips, she pulled her closer, into a soft kiss. “I just need you to focus on getting back in one piece. Okay?”

“Right.” Her girlfriend held her close, forgetting her packing for a moment. “But I  _am_  serious. This is not a solution that works for me anymore. After I return from this mission, things  _will_  change.”

“Whatever you want.” Yang couldn’t help but smile wide. Even if she didn’t want Winter leaving the military strictly for  _her_  sake, she couldn’t lie that she rather liked the turn of events. “But first?”

“Get back from the mission.” Another kiss. “And get back to my family.”

“That’s right.” They parted, with Yang delivering a cheeky little slap to Winter’s backside. “Now, let’s get you to that airship.” She shrugged. “Who knows? Maybe they’ll have a Huntress mission posted that I can take in the meantime.”

“Do be careful-”

“Says the woman about to leave for a life-or-death mission in treacherous terrain,” she replied with a laugh. “But, I’ll be careful.”

“Good.” Winter sighed, relieved, and finished packing her bag. “I’ll be glad when this whole mess is over.”

“Which will be?” She went back to leaning against the wall, gaze roving over their bedroom. It would feel cold and empty with her love gone away.

“I’m up for renewing my contract a few months after I’m projected to get back. I’ll simply turn them down.” A pause, a single moment of doubt, before her resolve hardened. “General Ironwood will understand.”

Yang rolled her eyes. “I think he’ll have the paperwork ready when you get back if you mention it. He might not even send you on the mission.”

Winter stopped dead in her tracks. “… he probably wouldn’t…”

Her brows rose. “You’re serious about this.”

“Of course I am.”

“Then just mention to him that this is your last mission.” She smiled gently at the look on her girlfriend’s face, the obvious confliction in her expression. “You know he wouldn’t send you on something like this unless he thought only  _you_  could see it through. There are plenty of Specialists, but none with your skill and experience. So, go save the world one more time.” She rested a hand on her belly. “We’ll be right here when you get back.”

Winter drew in a deep breath. “You’re right.” A shake of her head. “But I’m not sure if I like it.”

“This time next year, you’ll be out of military and with your firstborn.” Yang smiled. “Just remember that while you’re out there freezing your ass off.”

Her girlfriend chuckled, picturing it for a moment and then lifting her bag onto her shoulder. “We’re taking the bike, yes?”

“You know it.” She started heading out of the bedroom, grabbing her keys as she went. “Love you Snowdrift.”

Before she could quite make it out of the door, two arms wrapped around her middle and pulled her back against her girlfriend’s form, and a surprised laugh burst from her lips. “I love you too, Sundrop.” A kiss pressed just beneath her ear. “And I’ll be back soon. I promise.”

“You better be,” she replied, turning her head for another kiss. “And  _try_  to come back with all the pieces you left with, okay?”

“I’ve already lost two legs.” Winter shrugged. “What more could they take from me?” Silently, Yang raised her right hand and waved. “I trust you’ll help me adjust.”

“Okay, can it on the morbid jokes, please.” Another kiss. “And make sure you’re home in time for the baby shower.”

Yang then led her girlfriend out of the bedroom, heading downstairs so they could head over to the docks. It would definitely be tough without Winter there but the idea of taking on one last Huntress mission before she got  _too_  pregnant appealed to her. 

And it would keep her imagination from running rampant with what terrible complications might befall Winter’s mission.

* * *

Winter paced in front of the airship door, hardly missing a step as it lowered down to the docks. Not only had her mission run late- by a full  _month_ \- but communications were disrupted thanks to those infernal terrorists’ attempts to destroy the Atlas CCT. Damned Mantle purists and their ridiculous ideology-  _no one_  could get a message out to Yang before the thing went down and communications hadn’t improved prior to her leaving, which meant her girlfriend had to be worried  _sick_.

She remembered keenly watching the chaos of the Vytal Festival all those years ago, the devastation before everything went black, and the news coverage of the terrorists as Winter’s unit gave chase probably hadn’t set Yang at ease. That there was a communications blackout immediately after… she just had to get  _home_ , as soon as possible.

The slight jolt of the airship touching down hardly bothered her, her bag left forgotten with the rest of the cargo as the door opened and she immediately started down the ramp. She pulled out her scroll and dialed Yang’s number, waiting for the line to connect while pushing her way through the crowd that perpetually hung around the docks. 

When the first call got nothing but voice mail, she tried again. A second and third call got her much the same, so she tried a different approach; if anyone would be at their home to comfort Yang, it would be Blake, which meant her sister couldn’t be far.

“Winter?” Weiss’ voice flooded with relief. “Oh, it’s good to hear from you again. We heard about Atlas-”

“Is Yang okay?” She finally made her way to the street, waving a hand to hail a taxi and shooting a cutting glare at any who tried to flag one down ahead of her. “She must be worried- put her on the line, right now.”

“What are you talking about?”

“What do you  _mean_  what am I talking about?” She got into the taxi and hurriedly gave him the address. “Yang must be worried sick and she’s not answering her scroll. I presume you’re at our place-”

“Winter, stop.” The relief fled, replaced by a sense of trepidation. “Are you saying Yang  _didn’t_  go on that mission with you?”

“Of course not!” Her brows drew together. “It was a military strike operation. Why would I bring Yang on a mission like that?”

“She told us she was leaving out on a mission shortly after you left.” Winter’s breath caught in her throat. “We tried calling her and stopping by, but we never could reach her, and after the blackout, we assumed she went to join you on the mission.”

“What- she, no, she’s not with me.” Terror began to descend on her, worming its way around her chest in the  _worst_  way. “She said she might pick up a Huntress mission while I was gone but… it- it shouldn’t have lasted this long. She’s- she’s at least five months pregnant by now.” All the air fled from her chest as three words crossed her mind, three words she didn’t know the answer to but needed. “Where’s my wife?”

“Winter-”

“Weiss,  _where is she?”_ Her mind started racing, hand holding her head as she tried to snatch the thoughts. “There- there has to be- be some sort of system, a tracker, for Huntresses, Vale has to-”

“Okay, Winter, stop. Focus on my voice and breathe, okay? Blake just called the support line; Yang’s required to check in periodically during assignments.”

“They’ll know, right?” Not quick enough, the taxi pulled up to their house, and she hardly thought toss all the lien in her pocket into the passenger seat. “They have to know- they  _have_ to…”

She muttered, moving towards the house… but nothing was as it should be. 

Newspapers piled up by the door, which Yang would be sure to collect because she liked doing the crossword puzzles.

Yang would always check their mail at the same time, but the bin was fit to bursting.

Pulling her key from her pocket and shoving the door open, with enough force to bang loudly against the wall and bounce back towards her, she called out into the house, hoping against hope that they were mere flukes.

“Yang! Yang!”

But Yang never left anything out on the counter if she was going to be gone more than a week, and the rank stench of moldy bread and rotten eggs permeated the kitchen.

The finished crossword puzzle on the coffee table was dated a few days after Winter left.

Her mission bag was gone and Ember Celica were nowhere to be found.

Bumblebee sat in the garage, a fine layer of dust collecting on the seat.

“Winter? Winter, can you hear me?” Blake’s voice came from her scroll, prompting her to raise it to her ear. “Winter?”

“I’m here.” She ran a hand through her fringe, a low level of panic beginning to set in as she paced through the house. “But Yang- she’s not here, she’s not home, where is she?”

“I checked with Vale’s Hunters’ Board. They confirmed that Yang took a mission and reported it complete. They… logged which flight she took back to Vale.”

The fear and worry in her voice- the Faunus never learned how to keep her emotions out of her tone. “What aren’t you telling me?”

“We saw it on the news- we just didn’t think much of it at the time.” A pause. “The flight Yang took… never made it to the city. Mechanical failure- it crashed somewhere on the route. They’re still searching for the wreckage-”

Suddenly, the white noise that had taken over her mind quieted, enough for a plan to form. “Where?” 

“It was coming back from southeast Vale- wait, Winter? What are you thinking?”

She’d begun to move. She had her weapon already and she needed little else except a mode of transport, and Bumblebee would do just fine. Yang had taught her how to ride; fitting she should put the experience to practical application in such a time. “I’m going to find her.”

“They’ve been searching for  _months_ \- and what parts of the wreckage they  _have_  found- Weiss! Weiss, talk to her.”

“Winter?” Her sister’s voice sounded distant- concerned, frantic almost, but distant. “Winter, you can’t be serious; you’ve no idea where you’re going.”

“Southeast.” She went to grab her helmet, sitting beside Yang’s, but hesitated. Reaching up, she pulled out the pins holding her bun in place and settled her girlfriend’s helmet on her head, taking hers with her for when she found the woman. “I’ll look up flight paths once I hit the city limits.”

“You can’t be serious-”

“I’m not sitting around this house  _hoping_  someone else is going to find her!” She pulled the scroll away from her ear, scowling at the device. “I’m going out there and finding Yang! Whatever it takes!”

“Wi-” She hung up, tucking her scroll into her jacket and opening the garage door, straddling the bike. It took a minute to kick over, months of disuse bogging down the engine, but when it roared to life, she felt certain of one thing.

She  _would not_  return home empty handed.

* * *

Winter found her sister and her wife waiting for her at the last gas station heading southeast out of the city. The benefit of a second person and a car meant that Weiss could do the necessary research while Blake drove, narrowing down where they needed to look; she also took the liberty of contacting Yang’s sister, who dropped everything and swore to meet them along the way. 

Apparently, the last signal from the airship came somewhere over a mountain range, and while bits and pieces of the thing were found, the main wreckage hadn’t been. But a search team still trekked through the mountains and they had an address; Winter broke too many speeding limits to count and nearly lost control of Bumblebee six times, but they made it in record time.

It wasn’t until she stood before a map of the mountains, at all the little sectioned off zones for the search- at all the bright red ‘x’s drawn to represent areas searched, and how much blank space remained, that it really began to sink in, the entirety of it.

Her strong, capable, loving girlfriend, the woman who stood against an army of darkness with only her friends and her fists- Yang Xiao Long was somewhere in the wilderness, probably wounded and…

“Winter?” Weiss stepped up beside her, put a hand on her shoulder, but she could hardly feel it- suddenly numb. “You’re shaking.”

“She’s out there somewhere,” she said, tears threatening to break through the dam. “She’s out there and she’s hurt and… she’s almost seven months pregnant… I shouldn’t have left. I should  _never_  have left.”

“Ma’am.” One of the people, a supervisor for the search team, gently spoke. “You must understand there’s almost no chance she’s still-”

Only thanks to Weiss and Blake grabbing her- and about twenty glyphs encircling her- did Winter  _not_  immediately turn and break the man’s jaw with her fist.

* * *

Winter didn’t join the search party- they’d only slow her down. She took only enough rations to survive for a week on her own and it’d been nearly two.

But she refused to turn back now.

She didn’t keep to the neat little grid squares; she knew her girlfriend. Yang, born and raised on an island, bereft of the comfort afforded to the bigger, well protected cities. A Huntress- she knew how to survive in an unfamiliar and unforgiving landscape. Find fresh water, find shelter, hunt- secure the basic necessities. 

And that’s exactly where Winter started her search, looking for the caves near where they’d found part of the airship’s hull until she found evidence of a person. Dried blood from where someone gutted a deer- far enough away from a cave that it wouldn’t draw predators to whoever used it for shelter. From there, she followed the path of least resistance, down the mountain and into the forest, heading towards a lake. Far and away from the search teams and their pretty little grids.

But forests meant animals- prey and predator alike. She found traps, some for rabbits and some to injure larger creatures that might follow the smell of dead or dying prey. She also found her fair share of creatures, some that scurried from her and others which thought she might be easy prey herself. The blade of her sword put swift ends to those threats, however.

She kept following. All the way to the lake.

As she stood at the edge, hunger and exhaustion gnawing at her, Winter looked around for any other sign.

The trail couldn’t go cold now.

Her scroll rang in her pocket and she pulled it out, answering mechanically. “Have you found her?”

“No,” her sister replied, sighing heavily. “Where are you?”

“A lake, south of the range.”

“Winter, all the search teams are concentrating on the north side; they’re pretty sure the airship made it over-”

“Yang would find fresh water and there’s none on the north side.”

Weiss remained silent for a moment. “Blake and I are coming to pick you up.”

“No.”

“You need to rest and eat. You’re liable to-”

“Don’t you  _dare_  say it.” She growled, tempted to toss the device into the water that sat before her- still and mocking.

“You’re not checking in, we’ve little idea where you are or where you’re going, and you don’t have the equipment necessary to survive out there.” Weiss pressed on, heedless of her warning. “You’re liable to end up like Yang at this rate- lost and injured!”

For a moment, her anger quelled. “She’s not dead.”

“I know that.” A sigh. “She’s dating  _you_ ; if that wasn’t enough to drive her to an early grave, a little airship crash is nothing in comparison.”

She had to laugh, though the sound came out hollow, even to  _her_  ears. “I’m not  _that_  bad.”

“With the way you gallivant all over the place? Trust me, dearest sister, I remember that we were too alike when we were younger, and I certainly would’ve given Blake more than a few grey hairs by this point if I didn’t _grow up_.”

“Are you accusing me of being immature?”

“You ran off into the wilderness on a rescue mission without proper supplies; I’m calling you  _reckless_. You’ll be of no use to Yang in your current state. Let us pick you up, get you rested, and then you can resume your search in a few days’ time. Okay?”

“Tomorrow,” she said. “I’ll be back tomorrow.”

“The day  _after_  tomorrow and that’s my final offer. If you refuse, I’ll call General Ironwood.”

“I’m not his soldier anymore.”

“No, but he  _does_  have the necessary equipment to keep a person of your caliber from escaping, if necessary.”

There, she had a point. “Fine. The day after tomorrow.”

“Great. Stay by the lake. We’ll be there in… about three hours.”

Disconnecting the call, she slipped her scroll back into her pocket and balled her hands into fists.

Stay by the lake- she would comply… but she would walk the entire shoreline before she left. There  _had_  to be some clue, some hint as to where Yang had gone next.

So she walked, scanning, looking for anything out of place, until she found it- the marks gouged into a tree, the makings of a trail, too high for an animal to leave.

Winter looked back at the lake, briefly, before following the trail.

Yang  _had_  to be close. She’d deal with Weiss’ anger later.

The trail markers became harder and harder to distinguish but, soon, she found other means of following the trail- broken branches, a boot imprint in the mud, small tatters of cloth- until she came to what appeared to be a shallow cave made by rocks. Enough for shelter but not so much that it could give potential predators a place to hide. And, unless her eyes were playing tricks on her, there appeared to be thin wisps of black smoke rising up from between a few of the rocks.

Ducking into the entrance, she proceeded cautiously, until she heard a familiar sound that finally set her at ease- even though it rightly shouldn’t.

The metallic clicking of Ember Celica preparing to fire.

“Sundrop? Yang?”

“… Winter?” As her eyes finally adjusted to the darkness inside the cave, her heart nearly broke. Yang had propped herself up, facing the entrance, with some manner of make shift bandage covering the left side of her face and her entire right leg covered in thick branches strapped to it- enough to use for support but not enough to cover the obvious break about midway through the femur. Her clothes were torn and tattered, blood stained in some places, and cut in others to allow for the swell of her belly, though it didn’t appear to be nearly as big as a seven month pregnancy  _should_  be. “Snowdrift?”

“It’s me.” She rushed forward and fell to her knees, wrapping her arms around her beloved. “I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have left, I should’ve been here-”

“Hey, stop that.” A soft chuckle, her left hand reaching up to card through white strands- her right seemed immobile, likely suffering some malfunction and unable to be repaired without the toolkit likely lost in the crash. “If you were here, how would we get rescued? You  _did_  tell someone you were coming out here, right? You didn’t just charge out in a blind panic?”

“Weiss and Blake are on their way,” she said, neglecting to mention, for the moment, that her initial ‘plan’ consisted of exactly that. “Ruby’s with the search teams.”

“Good, gang’s all here.” Her eyes closed, heaving a deep sigh. “And… you know… I’m never one to volunteer for a doctor’s visit… but I  _think_  I might need to see one. Not for me, though.” She reached out, grabbed Winter’s wrist and pulled it against her belly. “For her but don’t worry. She’s still kicking.”

And she could  _feel_  it, the little bumps against her palm, strong little thumps.

That’s when the dam broke, tears started flowing down her face as she pulled Yang tightly into her arms, shuddering with her sobs. Apologies poured from her lips and she became dimly aware of other people coming from further inside the cave- other survivors of the crash, the only thing that would keep Yang from moving somewhere she could find help, people without aura to heal their wounds- but she couldn’t care about them. All she could acknowledge in the moment was having the woman back in her arms and their unborn child somehow still alive.

* * *

Weiss and Blake found them fairly easily- Yang answered Winter’s scroll when it started going off, managed to give the directions she couldn’t- and the events between finding Yang in that cave and flying her and the other survivors to the nearest hospital were murky at best. All she could remember clearly was snapping at anyone who tried to pry her away and eventually being manhandled by Weiss and Blake into allowing the medical staff to examine Yang.

Her sister waited with her just outside the room, Blake and Ruby posted up at the doors in the event she made a break for it- and some part of her mind find it comical in hindsight, but for now, it simply vexed her to no end.

“Winter? May I ask you something?”

“Go on.” Her agitation showed plain in her voice but she couldn’t help it; two hours since the doctors went in, they should’ve given her an update by now.

“Do you remember what you asked me when you realized Yang was missing?” 

That cut through her annoyance enough to replace it with confusion. “I… asked where Yang was?”

“Something like that.” Their gazes met. “You asked ‘where’s my wife’.”

She didn’t remember that part. “I did?”

“Yes.” Weiss nodded. “Is… that something you’ve talked over with her before?”

“Yang… her parents didn’t marry. Ruby’s neither.” Crossing her arms over her chest, Winter looked away. “I brought it up once and she seemed… apathetic to the idea. But that was years ago.” A chuckle passed her lips. “I suppose… perhaps in the back of my mind, I’ve been thinking of her in such terms. Even when they shouldn’t have, our parents stayed together- married, I mean… and Yang-” She swallowed hard, speaking the words out loud. “I don’t see myself ever being without her. I don’t want to leave her.”

“I know that’s why you’re leaving the military-”

“No. Not just that.” She pressed her lips into a thin line, then sighed. “I mean, I’d give my life to her. Remember when you proposed to Blake? You tried describing to me how it felt.”

“My life is hers to command because she holds my heart in her palm and I have no fear of what she’ll do with it. Only hope.” Weiss nodded, that silly little smile she always got when waxing poetic about her wife coming to her lips. “I remember.”

“I didn’t understand at the time what you meant. But now I do.” She nodded, crossing her arms and leaning back against the wall. “I just don’t know how she’d take it if I told her.”

“I’ve known Yang for long enough that I feel reasonably confident saying the following.” Her sister put a hand on her shoulder. “Yang’s always been the most adaptable and she’s grown a lot. She doesn’t have the best experiences with trusting people and she hasn’t many role models in that regard. But there’s, perhaps, some information you’ve yet to consider.” A reassuring smile. “She wouldn’t have gotten pregnant if she didn’t believe, wholeheartedly, that you would stay with her.”

“I’m still not sure if she’ll like the idea.” Briefly, she entertained a daydream- a ceremony, their friends and chosen family, a white dress and veil, two rings- and then chuckled. “You know how she can get antsy during ceremonies.”

“Maybe she’ll suggest a middle ground. She and Ruby have always had a knack for problem solving and cooperation.” The door to Yang’s room opened and Weiss stepped back. “At any rate, you should tell her. In your  _own_  words, mind, because Blake’s told Yang about my proposal half a hundred times at least.”

Winter nodded, then headed off, brushing past Blake and Ruby to enter Yang’s room. Cleaned up and in a hospital smock, her injuries seemed almost superficial. The bandage on her face now only constituted a long gash across her cheek, already healing with her aura boosted by medication, and the little cuts and scrapes along her arms had already faded into barely there scars. Two heart monitors kept track of two hearts, both steady and strong. Only her leg seemed to show signs of needing further medical attention, braced and bracketed in metal.

“They’re saying they might not be able to set it properly,” Yang said, lethargic but awake enough to speak. “If they can’t… I’m sure you’ll help me adjust.”

A quip about morbid jokes never left her lips, too focused on getting to the woman’s bedside and sitting down. She cupped her lover’s face and leaned down, kissing her slow and deep and taking it as a good sign when she was met with equal passion. “I love you.”

“Love you too.” A tired smile. “I knew you’d come track me down.”

“I’ll never leave you,” she said, reverentially, setting a hand on Yang’s belly. “Neither of you.”

“This isn’t your fault, ya know.” Her hand covered Winter’s. “Just a fluke. Freak accident.”

“That doesn’t change my statement.” Her other hand started carding through golden locks, mindful she didn’t tug on the knots tangling her hair. “I’m yours, Yang. Wholly and completely. My life, my love, my very being- I pledge it to you. I’d marry you, if you let me. No matter how far apart we may be physically, I will always be with you. And I will  _always_  come back to you, no matter where you are.“

Yang stared at her for a long, hard moment. “You were pretty scared, huh?”

“Terrified out of my mind would be a more apt description.” She mustered a small smile. “But I should’ve told you that long ago. I just… didn’t think it’d be appreciated.”

“That’s where you’re wrong.” A wide smile spread across her lips. “I appreciate the hell outta it… more than that… I believe it…” She reached up, rubbing her thumb along Winter’s cheek. “And I’ve been yours for a while now, too.” A shaky breath, tears coming to her eyes as she nodded. “And… marriage sounds nice. After the baby’s born?”

A short chuckle burst from her lips as she leaned down to kiss the woman. “We don’t  _have_  to get married.”

“I know. But I want to…” Yang fought to keep speaking, through increased slurring born of fatigue. “I’m not my mom… neither are you… took me a while to really believe that but I do.” A heavy sigh. “Talk later… ‘m so tired.”

“Then rest.” She moved, squeezing into the hospital bed beside her lover. “I’ll be right here when you awaken. I promise.”

Winter watched as Yang drifted off, glancing over at the heart monitors. If one told her six years ago she’d be not only willing to marry the brash blonde brawler her sister called a friend but excited about starting a family with her, she’d scoff and roll her eyes, doubly so at the notion that she’d trade her military career for such a life. Thankfully, she’d done some growing of her own in that time and stopped chasing a hollow sense of belonging in favor of a real home.

She pressed a kiss to the woman’s temple- her lover, her girlfriend, her fiance, her wife, the title didn’t matter. With Yang, she was home, whole and complete.

Weiss poked her head in briefly, just to check on them, and took Winter’s smile to mean everything turned out well. She made a soft quip about ‘tasteful bridesmaid dresses’ before disappearing again. Ruby came by as well, giving Winter a bone crushing hug that she couldn’t quite give Yang with the blonde still recuperating, but she bore it with a grin. Blake even brought her a book- and an appropriate one, highlighting the unique challenges Huntresses faced within the last few months of pregnancy and the first few months after birth.

 _This_  was where she belonged;  _this_  was her solution.

Family. A real one.

And she’d not leave it again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s Note: … no, now that you mention it, I don’t know why I keep circling back to family as a theme for these two… but it is appropriate…


	18. Ten Years

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a prompt that came across my dash and I've been accused of writing angst enough that I opted to live up to the charge.

Winter knelt in front of the grave stone, reaching out to reverently draw her fingers across the embossed words. Snow fell lightly all around her, blanketing the hill in a layer of white, disturbed only by her footprints leading up to one of a handful of markers. She’d never known one, had barely known the second, but the third and fourth? Them, she knew well. The third, she’d loved… more than anything.

“Yang,” she said, a tear slipping down her cheek. “I’m sorry; I found another dead end. But I’ll keep trying. I’ll find who took you from me.”

Ten years ago, she’d gotten the call. In the middle of a series of landmark meetings between business and community leaders from all over Remnant, a police officer informed her that Yang Xiao Long, her girlfriend of nearly three years, had died after losing control of her motorcycle on a winding path around her home island of Patch. Her sister, Ruby Rose, had also perished, following closely enough behind that she couldn’t avoid the same fate, their bodies lost to the jagged cliff and rolling sea below.

But Winter knew better. Her girlfriend  _would never_  drive recklessly with her sister following behind, had spent too many years on that bike to make such a simple mistake as gunning around a curve on a steep cliff, and would much rather ride with her sister into town than follow each other down anyway. Their deaths were no accident; everything had been staged to appear that way, though.

“I know I haven’t visited recently.” Her gaze dropped, fighting not to cry as she continued. “I wanted to entirely dismantle the operation before I confronted the boss. I thought, maybe, it would be an intimidating enough display to warrant the answer I sought. But it was all for nothing.”

Beneath her feet and six feet of soil sat an empty coffin, one she’d helped carry up to the hill where all Yang’s family were laid to rest. She’d dug the grave herself, with a little help, and filled it in, too. Winter had even carved out her girlfriend’s headstone and  _swore_  she’d find the people responsible. It had to be one of the groups working against Weiss and Blake, trying to derail their efforts to unify Remnant under a single, fair act that would ensure equality for Faunus the world over. A new legal precedent, something to force corporations to stop treating Blake’s people as anything less than the humans they worked beside. A groundbreaking measure.

But ten years passed and she’d yet to make good on that promise.

“I missed the first snowfall.” She lifted her gaze to the heavy grey clouds overhead, sprinkling down snowflakes that gently kissed her cheeks and stirred her hair. Usually, she’d feel cold, being out for this long with only her jacket and Yang’s orange scarf to keep her warm. But she hadn’t felt warm since her girlfriend died. She hardly felt anything anymore. “I’ve only got a few more possible leads- one of the crime families from Mistral. Only two really would’ve opposed the change but they’re worth looking into; I’ve already embedded my agents in their lower ranks and contacted the police through a proxy. I… know you always worried about a scandal, what that would do to my reputation, so I’m being careful.”

Blake and Weiss had succeeded in their goals. Winning support through public opinion and using the considerable might of the SDC, they’d improved the lives of Faunus all over Remnant. They still had a ways to go, of course, but the next generation would be born into a world where corporations would be held accountable for failure to provide for their workers, and that meant something.

Winter had to cling to those victories until she could have her own.

“Weiss is expecting again,” she said, running her hand over the flaming heart etched into the stone. “She said it’s my turn to name one. I told her that I don’t think that’s how it works but she insisted. I think… perhaps she knows I’ll never have children of my own to name.”

“Why not? You’d make a good mother.”

Eyes widening, Winter whirled around, pulling the pistol from beneath her jacket and training it on the intruder immediately. “Who are you? How did you find me?” She narrowed her eyes as the man chuckled. A touch shorter than her, with a black wool cap over short white hair and a white beard from ear to ear, though he still had a bit of a youthful face. A line or two from worry, perhaps, but she doubted he was older than her. A blue coat in the traditional Vacuon design and heavy trousers with a crude Schnee emblem stitched over her left breast. “Wait, I’ve heard about you. Some drunken fool in south Vacuo, claiming to be a distant Schnee relative- you’ve been singlehandedly keeping some tabloids in print, I’ll have you know.”

“What can I say? In another life, I very well might’ve been a Schnee.” He shrugged. “And, well, you won’t believe the answer I have for that first question,” he said, a bit of amusement glinting in blue eyes. “And the second? I know my way around, Snowdrift.”

Fury coursed through her veins as she shot forward, closing the distance between them and slamming her left fist into his jaw before lashing out with her right, catching him across the top of his head with her gun as he tried ducking away.

“WHERE DID YOU HEAR THAT?” He’d hardly hit the ground before she trained her weapon on him again, finger resting on the trigger and fully prepared to pull it. “WHERE?”

“ _Wow_ , you really learned to hit.” Staggered and dazed by her attacks, he shook his head and rubbed at the wounded areas. “I won’t make  _that_  mistake again.”

“You’re presuming you’ll live that long.”

He looked at her, a frown touching his lips as he sat up. “I really didn’t expect you to change this much. Guess the rumors are true.”

“Answer my question or I’ll put a bullet through your head.” She grit her teeth, hard enough it felt like they might shatter from the force. “You’re one of them, aren’t you? You’re one of the ones I’ve been looking for.”

“You haven’t been looking for me.” He cleared his throat and continued in a voice that pitched much higher- familiar to her ears. “You’ve been looking to  _avenge_  me.”

Her grip faltered for a split second. “N-no, you’re- you’re trying to get me to let my guard down. It won’t work.” Then, anger returned in full force. “You’re trying to get into my head-”

“You didn’t like guns before; you thought they were barbaric, the ‘rudimentary result of those unskilled yet with desires of heroic grandeur’ were your exact words, I think.” He nodded towards the pistol in her hand. “You prefer swords and their competitions, any kind- fencing, kendo, silat, whichever. You said one time ‘a child can hold a gun but most adults can barely hold a knife’, right?”

“So, you’ve been surveilling me for quite a while. That proves nothing.”

“You usually use your right hand but you’re actually ambidextrous.” The man smirked. “And there’s only three things you use your left hand for: cutting steak, boxing, and masturbation, when you’re in the mood.”

“So you’re a murderer  _and_  a pervert.” Despite the strength of her voice, doubt had started to worm its way into her mind. The cadence of speech- time had dulled the memories but now they came rushing back, suddenly vivid.

“The first time we met, it was Christmas Eve and you’d forgotten to get Weiss a present,” he said, reaching up to start scratching at his beard. “You were both workaholics then, never rested for a moment, but you’d finally remembered once you left your office. I was there trying to pick up dog food, just in case we got snowed in, and you offered me fifty lien to help you pick out something she’d like.” Suddenly, she realized he wasn’t scratching at his beard, he was  _pulling it off_ , cringing as whatever glue had kept it in place clung to both skin and the fake hair, leaving a raw, angry red splotch across his chin. “I told you to keep the money but, if she liked it, you owed me a date.”

Her mind raced. It didn’t make sense for anyone to be following her back then, and certainly not close enough to pick up on the fifty lien detail. She hadn’t told anyone that story…

… but perhaps Yang had. “That doesn’t prove anything.”

“Right.” Pulling off well worn gloves, he reached up, pulling contacts out of his eyes. “I’m sure there’s nothing I could say that’ll make you believe me. Honestly, if the roles were reversed, I’d probably be just as skeptical. I really don’t blame you.”  Light blue gave way to lilac- a shade she’d yearned to see again. “I told ya you wouldn’t believe me if I just told you who I am, Snowdrift.”

The same inflection. The same voice. The same eyes watching at her with that  _look_.

“It’s… not possible.” Winter felt her breathing become shaky, her anger ebbing as hope surged forth from wherever it had laid dormant the past decade. “What was the name of Yang’s bike?”

“Bumblebee.”

“What did she do first after waking up?”

“Kiss you or send you a text with a kissy face.”

“How do I like my coffee?”

“Black- you’ll drink it with French vanilla creamer every now and then to break up the monotony, but you’re just as likely to drink it straight from the pot.”

“How’d Yang like hers?”

“I don’t like coffee- never really did- but if I needed the encouragement after a long night, four hazelnut creamers and a dash of sugar.”

“Favorite type of nut?”

“Trick question.” Reaching up, the person grabbed the cap and pulled it away, a stubborn cowlick immediately popping up over the crown of their head. “After being with you, I said I stopped liking  _nuts_  at all.” A wink. “But, seriously, always liked almonds.”

She lowered her gun, struck a little dumb. Because anyone could guess that Yang liked almonds, that wouldn’t be hard, but word play while on the wrong end of a pistol? That took nerves, yet the woman now standing before her seemed entirely relaxed. If anything, a little hopeful and amused at her own joke, with a slight curl to her lips.

It… couldn’t be. “… Sundrop?”

“Yeah. It’s me.” Yang shrugged her shoulders, lips pulling into a small grin as she stood. “It’s good to see you again, Snowdrift.”

“‘It’s good to see you again’  _that’s all you have to say for yourself_?” Tears pricked at her eyes as her heart ached, feeling, for a moment, like it’d been torn from her chest all over again. “They told me you died in an accident! I went there myself, saw Bumblebee’s wreckage littering the waves, the skid marks- I mourned you, I  _buried_  you!” She gestured back at the grave markers. “I lost you and here you are, ten years later, ‘good to see you again’, Yang Xiao Long, I swear-”

“I had to, Winter, please,” she said, taking a step closer now that she didn’t have a gun pointed her way. “Believe me, it was the only way-”

“The only way to what? Break my heart?” Her arm jerked, almost bringing the weapon to bear again, but that came more from a conditioned response than her anger and hurt at such a deep running betrayal. She holstered it, not wanting there to be any doubt; she’d never harm her love, never, no matter how badly she’d been hurt by the same woman. “I  _loved_  you, Yang, and I lost you. So you could, what, run off to Vacuo? What have you been doing the past ten years while I’ve mourned you-”

“You mean while you sought revenge.” Her brows pinched together, the white color so strange to see. “You’ve spent the past decade destroying everyone who might’ve been responsible for my supposed death, haven’t you?”

“And made the world a better place for it,” she replied, pride bristling. “I sent a clear message: that  _no one_  could just claim a life without consequence.” But then, her lips pulled into a frown. “Though, I suppose, that wasn’t exactly true, now was it?” She turned away, unable to continue looking at the familiar face with that pure white hair cut so short, making the visage she’d spent the past ten years seeing only in pictures and her dreams altered just enough to make it unrecognizable. “Why did you do it, Yang? Why did you leave?”

“Because I was racing a clock.” Her voice had softened, holding no accusation in it at all. “A week before, I’d noticed some guys following me around. They obviously didn’t want to be seen but they also weren’t on your payroll. Ruby noticed that they followed her, too, but not as much. Then, I woke up one morning and found the brake lines on my bike cut.”

Blue eyes flicked back; she’d memorized the road leading out to the Xiao Long-Rose family home, every twist and turn, every slope. “You would’ve lost control before you ever made it to the ridge.”

“Exactly. They didn’t want me dead; they wanted me  _alive_. And there was only one reason I could find for that.” The crunch of snow underfoot as Yang started walking around, giving her space while also trying to catch her eye. “So I patched the line and told Ruby to follow me a few minutes after I left. Poor bastards never knew what hit ‘em.”

Winter turned slightly, looking at the woman. “Who were they?”

“A couple of muscle men on the payroll of the first guy you took out; you’ve always had the best instincts when it comes down to it.” She shrugged. “We buried them in shallow graves just off the road, took their car and clothes, then rigged the accident. By the time police had shown up, we were on a boat heading for Vacuo with fake names and wearing mens’ clothes. No one thought twice about it.”

“Marcus Black, the master assassin operating out of Vale. I  _knew_  he was the one behind it.” Her eyes narrowed. “But I didn’t ‘take him out’.”

“No, you just got your hands on some incriminating evidence and combined it with faulty intel so the police showed up at his place guns blazing.” A tilt of her head and a chuckle. “I really didn’t know how you’d react to my death, Snowdrift, but becoming a black market information broker and systematically destroying the criminal underbelly of Remnant would’ve never crossed my mind.”

“Stop calling me that.” She bristled. “I’m not that person anymore and you’re ten years past having that right, anyway.”

“Can’t argue with that.” Another shrug. “Honestly, Winter, if I had another option, I would’ve taken it. Ruby and I were here, on an  _island_ , with at least two guys looking to abduct us to use as leverage. Against you, Weiss, Blake- no telling where it would’ve stopped. So, we had to disappear.” Then, she gestured to her hair. “But I thought… if you or Weiss ever came around, looking to settle that ‘distant Schnee relative’ rumor, I could explain myself. But neither of you ever did.”

Her eyes narrowed, a tendril of doubt worming into the back of her mind. “You-”

“Know damn well that you two would  _never_  personally confront a rumor like that? Yeah, I do.” A mirthless chuckle. “But hope’s a funny thing. It was the only message I could send, the only bit I could reach out, but it was a double-edged blade. We were safe because who would look into a tabloid rumor when you two didn’t even deem it worth your concern? At the same time… I wanted you to look into it, so I kept drawing attention to myself… but no one ever came.”

Winter swallowed past a lump in her throat. “And you would’ve been a Schnee in another life.”

“I’d like to think that-”

“No.” She reached into her pocket and pulled out a small, yellow box with a custom image embroidered into the lid- the same one adorning the stone before her. “I’d had the ring for two months when I got called about the accident. I was just… waiting for the right time to ask… and then you were gone.”

Turning around, she looked at Yang then and saw sorrow mixed with hope and love in the softness of her expression, a sad smile on her lips. “I would’ve said yes. I’ve spent every day thinking about what I would say to you when I could…  _if_  I could.” She took a shaky breath. “And at the top of that list is- I love you, Winter. And I’m  _so_  sorry that this happened. I was only trying to protect you but I know this caused you so much pain. I’m sorry.”

“I wish you’d done it just about any other way.” Winter drew in a shuddering breath. “Give me one reason not to fill the coffin I buried, Yang. Give me  _one reason_  to let you walk away.”

Silence, broken only by the crunch of snow as the woman took slow and steady steps closer, fell between them, until Yang’s arms wrapped around her- and it felt like not a day had gone by since she’d last been in those strong arms, the warmth at her back, a familiar face pressing against her shoulder.

“I don’t want to walk away again, Winter. I know I can’t make up for the past ten years but I- I won’t leave you again.” Her grip tightened slightly. “I’m asking for you to take me back. I know it’s harder than that, complicated- if you walk away, I understand. But I’m here and I’m not going anywhere.”

“Why now?” She didn’t melt into the embrace like she desperately wanted to do. “Why come back  _now_?”

“To be sure it was safe. For you, Weiss, Blake- if all your enemies aren’t dead, they’re probably too scared to try now.” By small degrees, the embrace loosened. “I’ve…. been waiting for you to come around for months now. I figured… this was my best shot at getting you to hear me out.”

Tears pricked at her eyes, the whole experience becoming almost too much to bear after being tortured in thousands of nightmares over the years. She’d never dared to hope that she’d see her love again but her subconscious inflicted upon her countless agonies, conjuring so many ways when their paths might cross again- Yang, returned from the dead. “And what if I never want to see you again?”

“Then… I’ll disappear again… no tabloids, no messages. You’ll never have to worry about me again.”

“You’ve been gone longer than we were together.” Winter swallowed hard, trying to maintain her composure. “We’re not the people we used to be.”

“No, we’re not,” Yang said, allowing her arms to drop. “But you’re still my…” And she knew. The petname that went unspoken but she could still hear it, reverberating in her heart. “We aren’t who we used to be but I still see in you the woman I love. And I’m willing to win your heart all over again.”

Finally, the dam broke as she whirled around and wrapped her arms around the woman, burying her face in her neck. “Damn you, for all you’ve put me through, but I still love you. You’re still my Sundrop.”

With the snow falling down, those arms encircled her once more, and she could feel a warmth blooming in her chest once more. Then, Yang’s hand cupped her cheek, covered in tears, and directed her into a soft, sweet kiss.

“I’m sorry but I’ve been wanting to do that for ten years.” She smiled then, tears of her own beginning to track down her cheeks. “I promise, I’ll behave. We can start over from scratch- I’ll do whatever you want. Just don’t hold that against me.”

“Stop dying your hair and I’ll consider it,” she said, a moment before leaning back, too quick and too hard for Yang to keep them both standing, sending them tumbling into the snow.

Winter had no idea how she’d break the news to Weiss and Blake. She didn’t know how to deal with all the baggage the last ten years had put on them. She didn’t even know if she truly could forgive Yang for her actions.

But to have her there, in her arms again, laughing and crying and smiling in the fresh snow?

She was willing to find out.


	19. Watch Over Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A sequel to Watch Over You… because… warnings for more mentions of alcohol and drug abuse.

Yang sighed, running a hand through her hair and pacing through her living room. The past few days, she’d been restless, absolutely incapable of staying still for more than a handful of minutes, tossing and turning at night. Considering she’d passed the thirty-six week mark, she’d originally thought it was a product of the baby getting ready to come, make their grand debut, but she should still have a couple weeks, and the idea that this might continue all the way to the due date did little to settle her.

Her gaze fell on her guitar and she contemplated sitting down and trying to play or write a song but threw it out; she didn’t have the attention span for that at present. Her mind seemed to keep flipping between topics, like a tv with a busted remote, scanning channels faster than the images could be parsed. Frankly, the only thing that  _could_  hold her attention seemed to be the one topic she probably shouldn’t be thinking about, considering how she was supposed to be minding her stress levels.

Yet, Yang found herself going back to worrying about Winter. It almost felt like a prison, in some sense, with the regulated visiting hours and lack of personal liberties, and it felt strange to schedule around therapy sessions and the woman’s mandated job, but what worried her most was how Winter had acted during their last visit. She seemed anxious, worried, and there were bags under her eyes from lack of sleep. When she’d asked, the woman hadn’t been very forthcoming in explaining herself, waving off her concerns as nothing more than a bad night’s sleep.

But Yang had become far too experienced at seeing through the woman’s facade. Winter was hiding something, and the possibilities of what her former addict girlfriend might be hiding while  _at_  a rehab facility had her entertaining all sorts of impractical possibilities- was she training elephants for a zoo, was she preparing to go into space, was she digging an escape tunnel in the middle of the night- to avoid the dreadful alternative. Because she’d asked, point blank, if Winter was still sober, and she swore that she was. Yang believed her.

But the fear that she’d be proven wrong preyed on her in the wee hours of the morning.

“I gotta get out of my head,” she said, alone for once without someone keeping an eye on her. Weiss and Blake were off doing something, Ruby had work, and after the last time someone dropped by to keep an eye on the irritable pregnant woman, they’d all agreed that it should really only be friends and family accustomed to Yang’s snappish anger to provide her company. Which, on a day like today, didn’t really bode well.

Finally tired of being cooped up in her apartment, Yang grabbed her keys and went out the door, no destination in mind as she allowed herself to wander. She probably  _shouldn’t_  be going out for a walk, considering she was almost due, but she’d worked out up until last month, so it couldn’t be  _that_  bad an idea. Plus, fresh air always calmed her down. No reason it shouldn’t now.

Yang carefully made her way down the steps, then turned up the street, waving to neighbors who obviously  _wanted_  to caution her but had learned the hard way that it wouldn’t be a good idea. She was pregnant, not invalid; some people preferred to rest but she simply  _didn’t_ , and would probably never be the sort if she ended up getting pregnant again.

Now, there was a thought she hadn’t yet considered, putting a hand on her belly as she walked, not thinking too much about the slow pace of her waddle.

They hadn’t set anything in stone yet. Winter seemed too… well, guilty over the whole thing to make any suggestions or ask any questions, and it did bug her a little bit that the woman seemed so hesitant, but it did make planning for the future a tad difficult. It made sense, of course, and surely things would get easier once she’d hit her nine month mark and they could see each other outside of the rehab facility. Until then, she had to entertain the hypotheticals alone, mulling over whether or not her girlfriend would return right away to the apartment or if they’d spend some time apart- almost like they were dating again, not picking up where they left off. But, that would be pretty hard to do with a baby to think about, because Yang keenly remembered looking after five year old Ruby when their dad got too overwhelmed, and five year olds could at least feed themselves, kinda. Ruby might help, and Weiss and Blake would most certainly pitch in, but the child’s was Winter’s, and she seemed excited about being a parent. Yang would probably be hard pressed to turn down enthusiastic help.

She blinked, suddenly realizing that she’d walked towards the park where they used to play, stopping before she entered it properly. She hadn’t set foot there since that night…

Could they ever go back to the way they used to be?

“Fuck.” Lilac eyes closed as she tilted her head back, trying not to cry. Damned hormones making her emotional- she’d done a good job of keeping herself together, but the past few months had tested her in every way. 

Well, now what?

Yang scrubbed at her eyes, looking around and spotting a cab idling not too far away. She hadn’t meant to walk this far and she probably wouldn’t make it back without stopping for a rest.

“Hey, buddy, you on the clock?” She could think of at least twelve different, nicer ways to phrase that, but didn’t have the energy for pleasantries. Despite the exercise and the fresh air, she still felt restless, and that annoyed her almost as much as the indecision and not knowing did.

The driver looked her over and nodded. “Sure, lady. Where to?”

She gave him the address while climbing in the back, too busy relaxing in the air conditioning to care about the curious look he gave her in the rear view mirror.

So… aside from running herself in circles, she hadn’t come to any conclusions. Part of her wanted to just invite Winter back home straight off- maybe they wouldn’t share a bed or even  _think_  about rekindling the intimate side of their relationship for a while, but they could inhabit the same space, right? But another part cautioned her, warned her that too much too fast might break Winter’s sobriety, and she had to scoff. She’d never thought of the woman as fragile in any sense, yet that seemed to be the way she approached everything now, as if simply accepting her back into Yang’s life might have some terrible effect, make things worse than before.

But could they really  _get_  any worse?

Of course they could, that was a dumb question.

“Here ya go,” the cabbie said, prompting Yang to look up and furrow her brow.

“Is  _this_  the address I gave you?” Closing her eyes, she passed a hand over her face, not expecting to see the rehab center looming ahead of her. “Where is my head today…”

“Look, if you wanna go somewhere else, I can take you. Free of charge.” He shrugged. “I get it. You got a lot on your mind.”

“No, this is fine.” She fished out some lien from the pocket of her sundress, silently grateful she had enough for the fare, plus a decent tip. Wouldn’t be able to call one to get back home, though, but she’d deal with that later.

Since she was here… she might as well see if she could pop in on Winter. Their visits might be less frequent in recent weeks, but she remembered the hours all the same.

Making her way through the doors, she offered a tight smile to the man behind the desk. “Hey, James.”

“Miss Xiao Long! Good to see you!” His expression fell a little. “Can I get you anything? Bottle of water?”

“I’ll be fine.” She waved him off, leaning against the counter for some blessed support. “Can you let Winter know I’m here?”

“She’s not in, but the shuttle’s coming back now. Her shift just ended.”

“Really?” She glanced at the clock, now worried she’d gotten even more mixed up than she thought. “I thought she had the early shift at the grocery store?”

“Well, usually, but she’s been working doubles recently.” He winced. “Though, I don’t think I was supposed to tell you that.”

Yang tapped her fingers against the counter. Well, that at least explained why Winter seemed tired. She probably only had the prescribed lights out to relax and sleep, and that was set at the bare minimum eight hours.

But… why did she suddenly need extra money?

“Oh, perfect timing, there’s the shuttle now.”

Yang turned to look through the glass doors at the front of the building, watching as other members of the program disembarked while laughing and joking, lining up on the way to entrance like they were expecting a football team to run between them.

As it turned out, they weren’t waiting for some sports team or celebrity; they were waiting for Winter, only slightly struggling with a box almost bigger than her and something slung over her shoulder. As she stepped off the shuttle bus, the others started cheering loudly, making total fools of themselves, and Winter bore it all with the little smile Yang had only seen come out when dealing with other soldiers- equal parts ‘fuck all of you’ and amusement.

That lasted until Winter got to the door, shock splaying over her expression as she realized who was standing there.

“Yang? What happened- you didn’t  _walk_  here, did you?”

“No,” she replied, consciously leaving out the part where she  _did_  do a bit of walking, purely because her girlfriend had already gone into a mild panic, demanding bottles of water and a towel in that crisp, military tone she used when addressing just about anyone in the facility. “I was just… I dunno. I missed you and- wait, what is that?” Now that it wasn’t moving, since Winter set it down while looking for a bottle of water, Yang could not clearly make out the picture on the side of the box. “Is that a-”

“A rocker? Yes,” she replied, accepting a bottle from James while throwing a rather pointed glare at someone who had the temerity to ask if she wanted a  _clean_  cloth. “When Weiss and Whitley were small and fussy, I would rock them a little to settle them until Klein arrived. I wasn’t very good at it but it seemed to help.” She glanced at the box. “I thought… since it’ll be some time before I can do it myself, this might help once the baby’s born. I wanted it to be a surprise.”

Although Yang had a few more questions, they could wait, a soft smile coming to her lips as she accepted the bottle handed to her, drinking the refreshing water- not too quickly, her girlfriend cautioned, in that ‘I’m trying not to freak out but I’m a little freaked out’ way she had, that she would deny vehemently if confronted. “And you got yourself a guitar.”

Winter raised a brow, probably surprised by the non sequitur before catching on, glancing at the guitar case over her shoulder. “Oh, no. This is for you, actually.” Pulling the strap over her head, she lead Yang over to a chair, practically demanding she sit down before opening the case and presenting the guitar, though her nerves seemed to get the better of her at the last minute. “You… said you wanted one, so…”

Once again, she felt the urge to cry, but this time it wasn’t hormones preying on her but genuine surprise and awe overwhelming her. “That’s… a Blueridge BR-160- is it new?”

“Yes.”

Tentatively, she took it into her hands, brushing her fingers across the strings- her father had taught her how to play on a beat up Blueridge when she was a child, and he’d taken it as payment for some work he did on a neighbor’s house. She’d always wanted to get a brand new one to play but they were fairly expensive.

Suddenly, she recalled one warm summer day, walking with Winter downtown and seeing one in the window of a music shop. She’d told her girlfriend then that she wanted one and Winter had chuckled, promised her it’d be the first thing she bought when she returned from her call to service.

“Snowdrift…”

“I know I’ve broken a lot of promises,” Winter said, looking at her then with sorrow in her eyes, but something else too- steely resolve. “And I know it might not mean much, but what broken promises I can mend, I will. This is long overdue, Sundrop.”

“So this is why you’ve been pulling doubles? To buy all this?” Almost immediately, her girlfriend shot a look at James, which pulled a watery laugh from her lips. “Don’t give him a hard time.”

“I won’t; I just know better who to tell my plans to.” Winter shook her head, her expression falling slightly. “You thought I was using again, didn’t you?”

There was no accusation in her tone; just a sort of resigned acceptance with hope shining beneath.

“Honestly, the thought crossed my mind, but I believed in you.” She shrugged nonchalantly, not missing the way her girlfriend smiled, proud to have lived up to expectations. “Unfortunately, that left my imagination a little too much fuel to run with. Just checking, but you  _aren’t_  training elephants at the zoo, right?”

The look in Winter’s face then- a perfect mix of lovestruck awe and disbelief- finally set her at ease. Maybe they would never be  _exactly_  like they were before… but maybe it was better that way. It might be a while until their trust fully reformed, forged from trial and error, but it would be stronger, as long as they played their parts- and Winter certainly seemed to want to play hers. To keep her promises and be there for them.

“Ah!” She jerked, hand clutching her belly as their child seemed  _intent_  on being part of the moment as well.

_pop_

“Oh, I think your bottle sprung a leak,” Winter said, calling over her shoulder and hardly paying attention to the way a doctor’s head snapped their direction, the woman’s heels clacking as she headed straight for them. “Could we get some more towels?”

And that’s when Yang noticed her bottle- empty for at least a minute now- and her soaked thighs. “Snowdrift, the bottle isn’t leaking.  _I_  am.”

While some part of her was genuinely freaking out-  _at least_  three weeks early, and where was the damn hospital again, and how was she going to get there- another part of her greatly enjoyed watching her girlfriend’s expression slide from befuddlement to understanding to escalating panic as she shot to her feet, still holding the guitar.

“The baby- the baby’s coming?”

“Yeah.”

“Right now?”

“Yeah.”

“ _Right_  now?”

“Well, I can ask them to reschedule, but I don’t think we want to pay the fee.”

A string of nonsensical words that  _might_  have been altered profanities left Winter’s mouth as she tried doing about six different things at once. Thankfully, the doctor from before seemed more than aware of the situation.

“Miss Xiao Long, I’m Dr. Goodwitch; which hospital were you planning on going to?”

And she couldn’t help but smile, despite everything- or maybe because of it. After all, she really couldn’t think of a more apt way for her pregnancy to end, considering how it began.

She had her Snowdrift back- maybe not  _quite_  where they were, but they were getting there- and one hell of a story to tell when it was all said and done.

Come to think of it… might make for a good song. 

* * *

Winter looked herself over in the mirror, trying to ease her nerves. She’d finally made her nine month mark, moved into the quarters on the other side of the facility, and today would be her first outing since checking into rehab. Dr. Goodwitch explained that the sudden freedom and change in living arrangements often put a bit of stress on those in the program; those who stood a good chance of falling back into bad habits would usually do so about this time. It constituted the first real world test of resolve and dedicating to defeating addictions- three months of monitored freedom before she’d be formally discharged and able to start rebuilding her life. 

Smoothing out her shirt- a nice, pale blue button up she’d just got the week before- she deemed it nice enough for a trip to the park, with some faded jeans and her hair pulled into a low ponytail, bangs pushed out of the way and tucked behind her ear. Yang had mentioned maybe walking around the park, taking turned pushing the stroller, or just sitting by the fountain and talking- just an opportunity to be somewhere other than the facility as a family.

It still awed her, to some extent. She’d entered the facility wholly believing she’d lost one of the most important people in her life and she stood a good chance of leaving it with not only Yang waiting for her, but a little girl, too. Perhaps it still hadn’t sunk in, yet, the weight of that idea, because she looked forward to her release date with an almost painful sort of excitement, dearly wishing she could open her eyes and it would be the day. If asked before all this started whether or not she wanted to be a parent, she probably wouldn’t have given a straight answer, at once liking the idea and absolutely against it- considering her own childhood, she most likely lacked the skills and experience to be a decent sort of role model and, in light of the circumstances, she’d proven those fears rather well founded.

But it didn’t matter now. She had a daughter, a precious little girl, and she couldn’t allow herself the excuses. She would have to learn to be a good mother, a good parent, a good role model- she’d have to learn how to be better than she was when she entered this facility, because two people more than anyone else depended on it. And she would  _not_  let them down again.

“Knock knock.” Surprised, she spun around, taking in the sight of her girlfriend leaning against the open doorway, a diaper bag over one shoulder while their child rested in her arms, wrapped up in a thin blanket to keep out the early autumn chill. Yang looked  _exhausted_  but smiled all the same, casting her gaze around the room. “Wow, most people would hardly call this a dorm room, ya know. Maybe a closet but not a  _room_.”

“Believe it or not, for military lodging, it’s rather spacious,” she said, crossing the room in three strides and pulling the woman into a gentle hug, trying not to disturb the little bundle in her arms. “May I?”

“Absolutely,” Yang replied, transferring their daughter to her arms. “The car ride quieted her down. I’m gonna save up some money, enough for a down payment on a van or something; I can’t bug Ruby or Weiss in the middle of the night but  _wow_  do car rides work like a charm.”

Her brows furrowed, a moment passing as she visually confirmed she was holding the newborn correctly before looking at her girlfriend. “She hasn’t been sleeping through the night?”

“Not for the past couple weeks.” She scrubbed at her eyes, which looked puffier than the last time they saw each other; Yang had always carried herself well when worn out, hardly displaying any overt signs, but now that Winter was closer, she could see them. By her guess, she’d been missing sleep for about three weeks, at least. “I can’t figure out what it is. I took her to the doc the first week to make sure it wasn’t an ear infection. If it’s colic, looks like I’ve got another month or two ahead of me before it clears up, but the doc didn’t think it was. I’ve got another appointment scheduled for tomorrow, just in case.” Her expression lit up a little, a smile spreading across her lips. “But, for what it’s worth, that rocker helps. Doesn’t stop her crying but it’ll settle her down a bit. Kinda what made me think a car ride might help. And she loves it during the day.”

“I’m glad.” Winter brushed her finger’s along the baby’s cheek. “Why don’t you sit down for a minute?” Her eyes quickly flicked to the clock mounted on the wall. “My free time doesn’t start for another ten minutes.”

That technically wasn’t the truth; she could come and go from the facility as she pleased now, but she’d told Yang to meet at two-thirty, so she could probably get away with the little white lie, considering her aims.

“I dunno.” She eyed the standard issue chair with a little frown. “That thing doesn’t exactly look comfortable.”

“Oh, it’s not.” Winter laughed, nodding towards her bed. “Just sit on my bed. The wall isn’t very comfortable either but it’s at least more forgiving.”

With a shrug, Yang trudged over, the tightness in her shoulders and shuffling of her feet speaking to her level of exhaustion. Knowing her girlfriend as she did, Winter expected that about half came from being woken up by a crying baby while the other half resulted from fretting over said baby.

With a sight of relief, she dropped the diaper bag at the edge of the bed and climbed on, leaning back against the wall. It wasn’t the most comfortable thing in the world, of course, but it gave her some support while she tilted her head back and closed her eyes.

“Might just rest my eyes for a minute.” A deep, slow breath. “How’s your therapy going?”

“Good,” she replied, softening her voice while smiling down at the little girl who’d just opened her eyes, only now apparently aware of the change in scenery around her and mirroring the expression up at Winter. “Dr. Goodwitch thinks I’m progressing along the anticipated rate. I should be clear to leave on my release date, provided I continue making strides. She also mentioned that the support group isn’t for active program members only, so I’ll probably look into incorporating a meeting to my week once released.”

She paused, giving it a moment before looking up and biting her lip to keep herself from chuckling.

Yang’s chin had dropped to her chest, her shoulders entirely relaxed, and as Winter stood there watching, she snored very, very lightly.

“Perfect.” A family outing to the park sounded lovely but her girlfriend needed sleep, needed  _uninterrupted_  rest, and this seemed to be the only way she could provide that. “Okay, little Zephyr, I need you to do something for me.” She knelt down, grabbing a blanket tucked into the big pouch on the front of the diaper bag and spreading it out on the tile of her room, hoping it wouldn’t be too hard or cold for her little body. “I need you to be quiet for just a moment; I’m going to help your Momma lay down, and then I’ll be  _right_  back.”

Setting her daughter on the blanket gently, she watched for a moment for any sign of discomfort or distress before nodding and going to the bed. It took some doing- and plenty of hushed reassurances that everything was alright- but she managed to coax Yang into laying down with her head on the pillow. She couldn’t draw the sheet over her girlfriend, what with the bed being made and all, but she’d bought an extra blanket on the off chance Yang wanted to do a picnic some day, and it seemed light enough that it would do for a nice nap.

The moment she finished, she picked up her daughter once more, more than a little surprised that she’d managed it all without waking up her girlfriend or upsetting their daughter.

“Thank you, Zephyr.” She pressed a kiss to the little girl’s forehead, delighted at the way she squirmed, trying to reach out with her tiny hands. Winter went over to the aforementioned uncomfortable chair and sat down, not even noticing the lack of padding as she held her daughter. “Now, we need to have a little talk, you and I. I know you’re hardly two months old and this is all new to you, but your Momma’s trying her hardest. If you’re sick, that’s one thing, but if not, do you think you can let her get some sleep tonight?” She carefully moved her arms, freeing one hand so she could adjust the little yellow cap on the baby’s head. “I promise, if I’m there, you can wake me up every hour on the hour, but Momma’s tired. Just give it a few more months, okay? Can you try?”

She received no answer, of course, and she didn’t rightly expect one. Still, something about talking to her child made her believe that the words were understood, at least in part, so she continued.

“Now, I know this is going to be hard to understand, and I’ll tell you again once you’re older, but I’m… well, I’m not there for you right now. Not the way I should be. And I’m sorry for that.” A frown touched her lips. “I’m sorry, Zephyr. You deserve so much better from me and I know your Momma’s giving you everything she has in her. As soon as I’m out of here, I’ll give you that, too. I want you to know that I regret the decisions I made that put me in this position and I would take them back if I could. But I  _will never_  regret you. I love you, Zephyr, and I’m going to do what I must to ensure I never let you down like this again. I promise you that. Okay?”

She’d wanted to say those words for a while now, since she first held the little bundle of joy in her arms at the hospital, but never found the right moment. Usually, what time she got to spend with Yang and Zephyr focused on the moment, not the past, but she needed to acknowledge it, as much for her own recovery as for Zephyr’s. There were words she’d yet to say to Yang that still needed to be said- and she’d find the moment for them soon- but with this out of the way, she could at least feel a bit more at ease. Not a lot, of course, because the baby couldn’t understand her, smiling whenever Winter smiled on reflex, but one day, she would.

Time passed in that strange way it did whenever she found herself lost in a task, at once seeming like an eternity and a brief moment, but Winter’s head snapped up some forty minutes later, eyes narrowing as she heard the beginnings of someone being rowdy just down the hall. Her eyes shot over to Yang, still dead asleep and snoring softly, but she got to her feet anyway and went to the door. It would be better to shut it, though it wouldn’t keep  _all_  the noise down, but standing policy dictated that it remain open whenever visitors were present or the occupant was away from the facility, to ensure no contraband was being hidden, and she’d come too far to risk negative actions when she’d  _just_  earned the privilege of seeing her girlfriend and child.

So, she did what she would’ve done if she still had her rank and uniform, going to the doorway and silently glaring down the hall at the troublemakers. Some people might not be able to pick up on the distinct feeling of a stare boring a hole into their back, but most service members gained the ability early in their careers, and the lot threatening her girlfriend’s slumber noticed immediately they were being watched. When they saw the baby in her arms, the group immediately split into two factions- the ‘tiny humans are nothing but trouble’ part and the ‘babies are adorable; may I hold her?’ part, the former looking a touch miffed that their amusement had to be toned down while the latter seemed hell bent on ensuring no one disturbed the little one.

Satisfied that, for the time being, everything would be alright, Winter ducked back into her room, reclaiming her spot and trying to soothe Zephyr, who’d started squirming in her arms.

“Hush now, they’ll be quiet and Momma can sleep, there’s no reason to be upset.” Her words didn’t seem to help the situation, however, her daughter’s expression beginning to pinch together. “Wait, wait, don’t cry, I’m not mad, everything’s fine, it’s all- wait.” She looked up at the clock, noting the time. “It’s three- hungry, you’re hungry aren’t you?”

Not that Zephyr could answer her, of course, but she continued softly begging for the baby to keep calm while fishing through the diaper bag with one hand, looking for a bottle. Yang always carried a few, just in case, and she made a little noise of triumph when she found it.

“Here, little one, some delicious milk. Come on.” It took a few tries offering the bottle before her daughter latched on, sucking heartily and quieting down. “There you go. Perfect.” She smiled softly, going back to sit down. “Momma mentioned you have quite the appetite.”

Winter settled in, knowing full well it would take some time before the bottle emptied.

“You don’t know this yet, Zephyr, but you have the best Momma in the world. I’m sure there are going to be times when you get frustrated with her, because you’ve got a lot of growing up to do, but when you’re grown, you’ll look back and see. She’s doing everything she can to give you a good life. As soon as I’m able, I’m going to help.” She shook her head slightly. “It… makes me a little sick, honestly, knowing I put myself in this position in the first place. I should be there for you and Momma. But I’m not. Because of my own poor decisions.” Adjusting her hold slightly, she let out a sigh, noting the bottle to be about half full. “How am I going to make this up to you?” 

Again, her daughter provided no answer, and it wasn’t like she could talk through it with Yang. Her girlfriend had made it quite clear that she wanted Winter to move on and forgive herself for past transgressions but… it still seemed too big a thing to do. Almost as if she’d been handed the easy way out; it didn’t feel right to simply let it all lie in the past.

What if she slipped or stumbled? Now that she knew very well how far she could fall, the idea scared her more than words could say.

Lost in her own mind for a time, she didn’t notice Zephyr had finished her bottle until she started squirming, no longer wanting it anywhere near her. Winter chuckled, brows furrowing.

”Now, there’s something I’m meant to do here, right?” She thought back to the books she’d studied, trying to prepare herself for what practical experience wouldn’t be able to teach her as Zephyr continued to squirm, expression pinching slightly. Then it hit her. “Oh, right, burping.” Shifting while trying to keep support for the little one’s head, Winter eventually settled her against her shoulder, going off the diagrams she’d seen in books and hoping it would be enough. Something nagged at the back of her mind, though, as if she’d forgotten a rather crucial step- and it occurred to her a moment later, as she felt something wet begin to soak through her shirt. “Ah. Burp rag.  _That_  is what I forgot.” She chuckled, resolving to clean it up later; it would probably come out in the wash. Even if it didn’t, no matter; she’d just wear this particular shirt next time she fed Zephyr. “Well, feeling better now?”

Another smile to match her own before the baby’s eyes began to close.

Now, she’d reached a crossroads. Sometimes, Yang would let Zephyr nap, but sometimes she wouldn’t, and that schedule seemed more flexible than her feeding. The only way to know would be to wake her girlfriend, which she was loathe to do… but if she wanted her daughter to sleep through the night, a late afternoon nap seemed counter intuitive. 

“Come on, Zephyr, you need to stay awake.” She stood up, bouncing a little bit to try and wake the little one gently.  _That_ , however, just made Zephyr’s little expression pinch, almost as if she might cry. “Okay, nevermind, go to sleep.”

Winter could ensure Yang slept once they left the facility, but she  _could_  do that now, so it seemed like letting the baby sleep would be the best bet. Sitting back down, she sighed, glancing between two of the most important people in her life.

Her gaze snapped up as she heard a soft rapping against the door, having entirely lost track of time. Dr. Goodwitch stood just beyond the threshold, laptop tucked under her arm as emerald eyes raked over the interior, lingering on Yang for a moment. “Doctor?”

“I saw that Miss Xiao Long checked in but hadn’t left yet.” She spoke softly, mindful of the slumbering woman currently occupying Winter’s bed. “You were planning to go to the park today, correct?” 

She offered a shrug, noting the clock read almost four. “Yang was tired. This seemed like a better use of our time.”

“I see.” Her lips pressed into a thin line. “I’ll have James bring you two hot plates. That should give you a bit more time.”

“I appreciate that, Doctor.” Winter waited, worry beginning to creep into her mind as Dr. Goodwitch made no motion to leave. “Is there… anything else?”

“Yes, in a sense.” She tapped a finger against her laptop. “You have a session at six. However, understanding the arrangements Miss Xiao Long makes in regards to getting here, I feel it would be… unwise for you to spend your free time like this.”

“They need the sleep-”

She held up a hand to stymie the objection. “I agree. I’m not saying wake them up. I’m merely suggesting that I have some time and, with both of them indisposed at the moment, we can have your session now. That way, when they  _do_  awaken, you have the rest of the night to spend with them.” Dr. Goodwitch adjusted her glasses. “It would provide you the opportunity to, perhaps, go out to dinner, if the hot plates get cold in the meantime.”

Winter blinked. “That’s… if it’s not an imposition, Doctor, I would greatly appreciate it.”

“Not at all. One moment.” She disappeared, likely to grab a chair from one of the open rooms, and returned a few moments later with exactly that. “I believe one of the key factors in an addict’s recovery is their support network. Yours is already a little strained with a newborn but a little… flexibility can go a long way in ensuring that you stand a better chance at remaining sober.” Settling down in the new chair with her laptop on her knees, Dr. Goodwitch typed rapidly, muttering a curse under her breath regarding the painfully slow connection before being able to access her notes. “Now, I know we typically review the topics I asked you to think about last session to start off, but in light of the circumstances, I’d like to take a different approach today.”

“Meaning?”

“I want you to look around,” the Doctor said, indicating the room. “And tell me about the first memory that comes to mind. Just start at the beginning when you’re ready.”

Winter did as told, looking down at Zephyr first, and then at the barren, white walls of the room, and finally landing on Yang… and a memory did, indeed, come to her.

“It had to be late,” she said, morose as she went back to that night. “I’d gone to a… ‘friend’s’ house- and I use the term lightly- for a fix. We’d drank a bit beforehand and… I used more than usual. My fingers were clumsy; I was already  _so_  drunk.” She looked at the floor, ashamed at the words coming out of her mouth. “That’s no excuse, I shouldn’t- anyway… I asked Yang to come pick me up. It took her half an hour to find me and I- I didn’t tell her I was wasted. Hid it, well enough that she rode her bike rather than find someone to help. But I was in no condition to ride.”

Dr. Goodwitch gently prodded after a minute of silence. “What happened when she arrived?”

“I don’t remember all of it. I was so far gone, it’s just bits and pieces- but I remember the rain. It was pouring that night, the gutters were overrun. Yang put her coat on me, trying to keep me dry, and she carried me, because I couldn’t be trusted on my own feet.” There were snatches that came back to her. Brief periods of lucidity- the pelting rain hitting her face, the sloshing as her girlfriend trudged through ankle high water, a wave of water hitting them both as a car passed- but it was just the explanation. Just the introduction, in a sense… “She carried me for five miles back to our apartment. Changed me into warm, dry clothes, made me take some water and bread, and set me in the bathtub with a pillow and a blanket. I woke up hours later… and she was there. Still in her wet clothes, just sprawled on the bathroom tile- she had her scroll set to go off every thirty minutes; I could see the countdown. No doubt she’d wake up long enough to check on me and then go back to sleep.”

“And what did you do?”

“I turned off the alarm. Put the blanket over her.” Winter swallowed thickly, tears stinging at her eyes. “And then I went to the kitchen and poured myself another drink. When Yang woke up, she came out and found me laying on the couch in the living room, half the bottle gone. And I offered to pour her some.” She quickly glanced up before her gaze fell again. “That was… three days before she left.”

Dr. Goodwitch typed a few words before asking the obvious follow up question. “Why that memory in particular?”

“A lot of reasons.” She shook her head, trying to hold back the tears; too many sessions ended with her fighting to keep herself under control and she didn’t have the right at this point. Every decision, every action,  _she_  had made them, so the only person to be upset with was herself, and she didn’t need to shed tears over her own foolishness. She didn’t deserve them. “Mainly… I made the wrong decision then. I chose to indulge my addiction rather than get Yang into dry clothes, get her into bed… I failed her as a partner… and on top of that, I put our child at risk.”

“Did you know?” She gestured towards the babe still slumbering in Winter’s arms. “That she was pregnant?” A shake of her head. “Did  _she_  know?”

“I… haven’t asked her when she found out. I assume she did.”

“I find it strange that you’d hold that against yourself. If you didn’t know, then you didn’t consciously make the choice to put your unborn child at risk.”

Winter shook her head, denying that logic in its entirety. “If I’d been sober, I would’ve seen the signs. I would’ve thought to ask- I would’ve known that she was late. In my right mind, I would’ve noticed.  _I_  chose to be drunk and high; I chose to ignore what she was going through. I  _did_  make that choice, even if I didn’t realize it at the time.”

“Do you feel like you made the correct decision this time?”

“At the very least, I think it’s the better one,” she replied, pausing as Yang rolled over, seemingly mumbling in her sleep before dropping off again. Thankfully, Zephyr didn’t stir in the slightest. “Yang might be disappointed we didn’t go to the park but I think she’ll forgive me. She needs sleep and this provides me a chance to spend time with Zephyr.” Emerald eyes fell on the baby. “It’s still spending time with her. It’s not like we can hold a proper conversation yet.”

A chuckle. “Forgive me if I find the idea of you having a proper conversation with a child amusing. The mental image of you doing ‘baby talk’ is actually rather charming.”

She narrowed her eyes. “You don’t think I can do it.” A sigh left her lips even as they curled into a gentle grin. “Yang said the same thing.”

Dr. Goodwitch typed furiously for a moment before stopping, setting her laptop on top of the desk and folding her hands in her lap. “Winter. I’d like to ask you a hypothetical question. You don’t have to answer if you’d rather not.”

It wasn’t very often when the doctor asked her these sort of off-the-record questions. Considering the nature of the program, most of their sessions went according to the prescribed schedule for the therapy, but every now and again, she would set aside her laptop and ask questions or direct Winter towards a path born of her years working with addicts. Honestly, sometimes, it felt more like plain curiosity rather than anything else.

And, as always, she indulged, because she could truly use all the help she could get. “Go ahead.”

“Hypothetically speaking, if you could go back in time and stop yourself from taking that first sip, that first hit… would you do it?” She held up a hand to silence a premature response. “Knowing that it would mean, at this time in that alternate reality, you would not be holding Zephyr in your arms right now?”

She did  _not_  expect that.

“Are you- are you asking me to choose between erasing what I put Yang through or keeping our child?”

A single nod. “Yes. That is  _exactly_  what I’m asking.”

“Fuck you.” Both women turned their attention to the bed as Yang sat up, glaring at the doctor. “That’s not a fair question and you should be ashamed for even daring to ask.”

“Yang, it’s only-”

“No.” Tossing the blanket off herself, she got to her feet, easily towering over both of them, seated as they were. Her voice was quiet but still strong, mindful of Zephyr, and lilac eyes filled with fury landed on the doctor with the force of a sledgehammer. “It’s an impossible choice and a pointless one besides.”

“I understand your objections, Miss Xiao Long.” Dr. Goodwitch, to her credit, didn’t flinch. “Winter doesn’t have to answer… but I think you want to hear what she has to say.”

“Yang,” she said, weighing her words carefully and watching her girlfriend’s back as the tension slowly bled out. “I  _do_  have an answer.” Slowly, she turned around and waited. Winter tried to summon the words that had so effortlessly left her lips before but it seemed so much more difficult now, with Yang’s eyes on her. But honesty, she’d found, had to be her only recourse going forward, or she’d fall back into addiction, and she would lose her fledgling family completely. “I do regret everything I put you through. I know I was unfair to you in more ways than I can count; I do apologize for that. But I can’t regret her.” She looked down at Zephyr. “I’d rather not think of it as one or the other- good things can result from terrible decisions. That doesn’t make those decisions any less terrible and it doesn’t justify them.” She paused, gathering her thoughts. “I love you, Yang. If there was a way to save you from that pain and keep our daughter, I would. But I  _can’t_  regret her.” A small, ineffectual shrug. “It’s impossible, and we both know that, but that’s my answer.”

For a moment, her girlfriend’s expression remained inscrutable. And then, something clicked, her expression changing to one of curious interest. “Would you do it again?”

Her brows furrowed. “Didn’t I just-”

“No, I’m not asking if you’d  _go back_  and do it. I mean right now.” She pointed towards the door. “If we walked out right now, did everything exactly like before- the long nights, the fights, the pulling you out of godawful places in the middle of the night- and at the end of it all, Zephyr had a little brother or sister, would you do it again?”

“Of course not!” She shuddered, unable to control her reaction, and immediately turned her attention to soothing the baby she’d disturbed. “Sorry, Zephyr, I didn’t mean to startle you, hush now, I’m sorry.” Then she redirected her gaze to her girlfriend. “We could have another child without all that pain and heartache; I couldn’t put you through that again, Yang, and if I ever do, you need to leave. Protect them and yourself, even from me.”

“I don’t have to.” Her expression softened as she crossed the room, kneeling down next to the chair and setting a hand on Winter’s arm. “I believe in you, Snowdrift. I know you can beat this.” She threw a frown over her shoulder. “I think there was a better way to  _address_  that.”

“Probably but I didn’t want to be so direct.” Dr. Goodwitch adjusted her glasses again. “Simply asking Winter point blank if she associated her child with her addiction would be… rather uncouth. I’m quite certain she’d react the same way you did. But I’ve noticed a trend among addicts, to associate good things with their addiction as a means of justifying their substance abuse, while any negative aspect is more attributed to coincidence, when it rightfully should be the other way around. I’m very pleased to see Winter hasn’t fallen into that trap.” She grabbed her laptop, opening it again to make some final notes. “Generally speaking, our program is geared more towards helping the service member- past or present- begin the road to recovery, but we’re examining new data that indicates involving the families of service members in the rehabilitation process is beneficial and reduces the chance of relapse.”

“Well, count me in the ‘yes’ category,” Yang replied, a little scowl coming to her face. “If it means I can make sure you never ask a question like  _that_  again, I’m all for it.”

“I will annotate that.” Dr. Goodwitch looked up at the clock. “I think that’s enough for today. Should I have James bring the hot plates?”

At her girlfriend’s befuddled expression, she smiled. “Would you like to eat here or go out for dinner?”

“No offense, but I’ve heard too many horror stories about military food.” Yang smirked. “Mostly from you.”

“Thank you, Doctor, but we’ll be going out.”

“I hope you both- excuse me, I hope all three of you enjoy your evening.” She nodded, grabbing the chair on her way out to returning from whence it came.

After she’d left, Winter waited, searching for the words she wanted to say. Finally, she settled on the obvious. “When did you wake up?”

“I heard Zeph starting her ‘I’m hungry’ cry, so I think that woke me up, but I kinda dozed in and out of consciousness when I realized you were handling it.” Yang shrugged, reaching over to lightly fiddle with the swaddling blanket. “I only really came to when the Doc started talking.”

A few moments of silence passed and she debated whether or not to broach the topic before finally committing. “Then you heard me talk about that night…”

“I didn’t know. That I was pregnant, I mean.” She didn’t look up though her voice remained steady. “I’d just had enough. I realized, when I came out and found you already halfway to being drunk again, that I wasn’t doing either of us any good. I was just making it easier for you to fall further into your addiction. The best thing I could do for both of us was to just… walk away. So I did.”

“Well, it certainly worked.”

“Yeah…”

Her brows furrowed, noting the dark cloud that seemed to linger over the woman’s shoulders. “Sundrop? Is something on your mind?”

Yang pressed her lips into a thin line. “There were a few times over the past year when I thought… I was doing the same thing Raven did.”

“Sundrop-”

“Hold on. I just- I need to get this out.” She sighed, passing a hand over her face. “I know there are differences and, in the back of my mind, the rational part of me can work that out, but still, it felt like- like I’d abandoned you when you needed me most. And I just- I’m s-”

Winter leaned forward, cutting off the apology with a kiss, seeing as her hands were occupied. When she pulled away, she started talking before her girlfriend had the chance to, not wanting to give her another moment of doubt. 

“Don’t ever apologize for that, Yang. I mean it. Losing you in that sense forced me to confront my actions and the consequences, but you never really left me.” She looked over to her desk, where both picture frames sat- the cheap one she’d bought and the beautiful one Yang had sent her to commemorate her six month mark. “Even though I thought our relationship ended and I would never be able to see you again, I knew you only did it to save the both of us. I didn’t hold out hope that I might be able to get you back, but I  _did_  believe I might one day be the woman you fell in love with again.  _That_  was enough.” When she looked back, she found tear filled lilac staring back at her, and her expression soften. “Raven ran away from her responsibilities.  _You_  saved all three of us. There’s simply no comparison.”

For a long moment, silence settled over them, and she could see something working itself out as Yang scrubbed at her eyes and fussed with Zephyr’s blanket. It worried her- she really hoped her girlfriend wouldn’t end the day more stressed then when she entered the facility- but she waited, patiently, for the woman to string the words together.

“That’s the first time you’ve kissed me while sober in almost two years, you know.” She sniffled. “Not that anyone’s counting…”

It broke her heart to hear that, realizing the truth of it- two years, before she’d gone to serve. After returning, she’d been tense and irritable, objecting to any invasion of her personal space as she readjusted to her civilian life. They’d slept on opposite sides of the bed, as far away as possible, because sharing a bed again felt so strange and kept her up at night. That was why she indulged in alcohol to begin with, to try and loosen up, but it quickly turned into a dependency, then an addiction, and it only got worse from there- and suddenly she understood what Dr. Goodwitch meant about confusing coincidence and causality.

Carefully freeing up one hand, she gently cupped her girlfriend’s face and pulled her closer.

“I didn’t want to assume, to push too far, but Sundrop…” She smiled, relieved to see the same expression looking back at her, using her thumb to brush away a tear as it rolled down her girlfriend’s cheek. “I’ve been wanting to kiss you for a while now.”

“Well, that makes two of us.” Yang chuckled, slipping a hand around her neck and pulling her down so their lips met again, though they took their time this round, easing into old habits. Their eyes closed, allowing themselves to sink into the sensation, and though it worried her a bit at first, Winter gave in to the inclination to thread her fingers through golden strands- a right that had taken her three months of dating to earn the first time. She thought, maybe, that might bring a quick end to things, but instead Yang hummed and pushed a little closer, almost as if rewarding her.

It felt  _so_  good. Like finding a lost piece of herself that she’d been searching for without even knowing what to call it. Some little voice in the back of her mind helpfully supplied ‘other half’ and she couldn’t discount it; while she’d been getting better, both physically and mentally throughout her recovery, only now did she truly feel like she could be whole again.

And the fear nipped at her heart as Yang lightly bit her lip, a prelude to slipping her tongue inside her mouth, because now the stakes raised even higher.

She  _could not_  lose this again. She wouldn’t be able to bear it.

They jolted apart when Zephyr began to stir, not very keen on being squished between them. A blush bloomed across her girlfriend’s expression as they both set about hushing their daughter, lulling her back to sleep.

“Guess we shouldn’t get carried away.” Yang murmured, though she had a dreamy little grin on her lips. “At least, not until we get home.”

Winter decided to take a chance. “When do you think that might be?”

“Well, I’ve got a meeting with the label to talk about another album coming up, so I’ve gotta throw some demos together, so maybe…” A shrug. “Next Tuesday, you can block off a few hours? I’ll even make dinner in a crock pot, so that should give us a little time to spend with Zephie before we put her down for a nap and just… have some one-on-one time?”

She swallowed, at once enamored with the promise of a home cooked meal, bonding time with her daughter, and some alone time with her girlfriend, but she tempered it with a thought that had hung in the back of her mind like a specter. “Sundrop… it’s okay if you don’t want me to come back right away. I’ve got less than three months left, but we can take more time. I’m sure Weiss has a couch I can use.”

Lilac eyes snapped to meet hers right then, pinning her in place. “I’ve waited too long to get you back, Snowdrift. Forgive me being a little impatient.” Then her expression softened. “But if  _you_  need more time-”

“I don’t. Trust me. But… it’s an idea to keep in mind, if it feels like we’re rushing things. I’d rather take a step back then, well-” 

“Run over a cliff?”

“That’s one way of putting it.” She laughed and glanced at the clock. “Did you want to go get dinner now? Or rest a bit more? I’m sure I can keep Zephyr entertained a while longer.”

Yang smirked. “I got a better idea.” Carefully, her girlfriend coaxed her out of the chair, leading her over to the bed. She got on first, scooting all the way back against the wall and laying on her side, then pat the spot next to her. “Set Zeph down.” 

Winter complied and guessed what her girlfriend might be angling for, laying down on her side and just barely managing to remain on the bed. “Tight fit.”

“Are you going to fall off?”

“No.”

“Good.” Yawning, she settled down as best she could and reached out, looping an arm around Winter’s waist. “Wake me in half an hour?”

“Of course,” she replied, leaning over and mindful of the baby between them to kiss her girlfriend’s forehead as she closed her eyes. She’d need to change her shirt before they left but that could wait.

For the moment, she only wanted to drink in the sight before her, commit it to memory, imprint it on her soul. What she stood to gain if she stayed true and what she’d lose forever if she faltered.

Because she would  _not_  put Yang or Zephyr through this again. If she relapsed, if she fell back into those old habits,  _she_  would be the one to walk away. It would be abandoning her responsibilities, yes, but it would also be protecting her family. She wouldn’t give her daughter a childhood like hers.

“I love you both so much.” She brushed the backs of her knuckles against Zephyr’s chubby cheeks and then laid her arm atop Yang’s, both of them fast asleep.

She would  _not_  squander this second chance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> … yeah, there’s probably gonna be a part 3 at some point…


	20. An Off Day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Something a bit more lighthearted after the last two entries.

To the majority of the populace, it probably seemed like any other day, what with the sun shining overhead and a nice breeze twisting its way through downtown. Unfortunately, for Winter, it seemed to be a day that operated strictly under Murphy’s Law. Her airship had touched down late that morning, forcing her to send her bags to the hotel while she attended the first in a series of long, drawn out security meetings between the kingdoms of Atlas and Vale, for which she’d somehow been chosen to act as Atlas’ military representative. While it provided a high honor for a Specialist, it also came with a steep downside: she didn’t quite have the rank of General Ironwood or even a Commander with which to make her suggestions, sound they may be. That lead to an argument between some pompous fool who seemed to enjoy the sound of his own voice, though it grated on hers to no end, and what should’ve taken an hour lasted nearly three.

To make matters even  _more_ frustrating, she’d also had to deal with checking in to the hotel over the phone- a convenience the staff seemed unwilling to offer her, much to her annoyance- while she attended an inspection of the defense capabilities Vale seemed eager to deploy. The majority consisted of Atlas technology she happened to be certified on but  _never_  had she seen them employed in… quite  _that_  fashion, and she silently cursed every big blockbuster for putting such strange ideas into the heads of civilians about the capabilities of military technology.

Once she’d dealt with  _that_  headache, she’d hoped to catch her breath at a lunch with her sister, who’d left to study in Vale two years ago. Yet again, fate conspired against her, as she first went to the wrong restaurant due to a miscommunication- how many noodle shops did this damn city have, anyway?- and then some manner of supervillain appeared and it was safer for Weiss to remain across the city until it resolved.

Winter reached up and rubbed at her temple, storming down the sidewalk and heading back to her hotel. Another thing she could hardly believe: that Vale, lacking in military strength as it was, had  _supervillains_  of all things. Heroes, too, sure, but what sort of kingdom became a hotbed for masked nutcases with powers but didn’t have any means of ensuring a mass evacuation?

Atlas didn’t have that problem… but it also didn’t have the issue of super beings running around as well, primarily due to the government’s strict control on such things. No one would  _dare_  showcase any abnormal talents, much less throw on a mask and run around a city showing them off.

Just as she crossed a street, now less than a block from her hotel, the delectable scent of freshly ground coffee hit her nose, managing to reach through and sooth the agitation rolling through her.

In all the rushing around, she’d missed out on one of her morning rituals. It hadn’t even crossed her mind until now.

Pulling out her scroll, she checked the time. It  _might_  make her late to her next meeting, sure, but the whole day had that theme, and at least  _this_  way, she’d have something to show for her tardiness.

“What the hell,” she said under her breath, turning to duck into the coffee shop. Were she back home in Atlas, a nice, warm cup of coffee would be perfect on a cool autumn day. But Vale ran much warmer than her home kingdom and she’d rather like one of her rarest indulgences:  _iced_  coffee.

Winter stood in line, mulling over some of the more… colorful offerings that seemed to be local favorites before opting to go all out. She needed a  _true_  treat.

“One double chocolate chip frappuccino.” While it wouldn’t be nearly as sweet as Atlesian chocolate, hopefully it would be enough to indulge her infrequent sweet tooth. “Tall- no, make it grande size.”

After having her nerves so thoroughly frayed and her patience tested, Winter almost couldn’t wait to have her prize in hand, and snatched it up from the counter before it could even be fully set down. Rude, perhaps, but she’d dumped the lien from her change into their tip jar, so they really didn’t have much room to complain about a customer eager to be out of their hair as quickly as possible.

But the order of the day hadn’t changed and she’d taken no more than two steps out of the coffee shop when she heard an alarmed shout and something  _slammed_  into her side with terrifying force, sending her stumbling to try and keep her balance. Whirling around, she found none other than one of the horribly disfigured beasts that seemed to serve one of the numerous supervillains running around the city- they were called Grimm, apparently, due to their terrible appearance- trying to get back to its feet as one of the various heroes landed on the sidewalk just a few feet away.

“Whoa! Are you okay?” As the Grimm tried to shake off the impact, wings beating to try and right itself, the self proclaimed hero came over, stomped on the thing’s neck, and delivered an absolutely  _devastating_  punch to its head, crushing the pavement beneath. With her quarry dissolving into shadows, Winter took stock of the woman. Clad neck to toe in a yellow bodysuit with black trim and highlights and a yellow mask obscuring her eyes, the skin tight nature of the get up made it obvious that the hero possessed some manner of super strength. Either that or she worked out religiously. “These flying ones can really get away from ya, heh.”

For a moment, she thought about brushing it off- although startled, she hadn’t been injured by the beast- but then she noticed one crucial detail.

Her iced coffee now painted the sidewalk.

“Dust. Damn. It.” She heaved a sigh, running a hand through her bangs. Really, she should’ve expected as much, considering the theme for the day.

“Uh… Ma’am?”

“Don’t you have  _any_  sense of decency?”  Winter leveled a scathing glare at the hero- Phoenix or some such.

“Hey, I wan’t  _trying_  to ruin your day or anything; it was an accident!” Phoenix put her hands up in surrender. “The Nevermore got away from me! It wasn’t intentional and- I mean, seriously, are you okay? It looked like it hit you pretty hard.”

“Aside for the loss of the only good thing I had going for me today, I’m fine,” she replied, turning around to walk back into the coffee shop. “And someone should give you a lesson on personal responsibility. Just because you, specifically, didn’t bowl me over doesn’t mean you aren’t responsible for the situation.”

“Wow, you’re one tough customer, huh?” The hero seemed half annoyed, half amused by her diatribe, offering a shrug she could see in the coffee shop door’s reflection. “Suit yourself. Hope your day gets better!”

Winter didn’t pay the woman any further mind, storming her way back to the counter and asking for her order again. The staff tried giving it to her for free but she’d have none of it; it wasn’t their fault she’d been assaulted upon exiting their shop and it probably wore heavier on the employees when the ‘heroes’ were so reckless. A few minutes later, as whatever battle had taken hold of the city began to die down, she once again had her treat and turned to leave the coffee shop- looking before she stepped out this time.

But all she saw was a blur of yellow that screamed bad news just before it crashed through the coffee shop’s glass door and into Winter, knocking them both to the ground and spilling her drink  _for a second time_.

“You  _must_  be joking,” she said, staring up at the ceiling of the shop from the flat of her back.

“Ah, damn, now  _that_  hurt.” Phoenix grumbled, slowly pushing herself up… and then realizing where she’d landed. “You ag- ah, crap.” She drug a hand over her face. “Okay,  _this time_ , it’s my fault.”

“It was your fault last time!” Winter snapped, sitting up and forcing the woman off her out of pure shock. When she’d gained her feet, she started brushing off her military uniform, though some of the debris had torn holes through the fabric. “Honestly, how you can be so blind to the effects you have on the city is beyond me. On top of causing so much collateral damage, you’ve gone and spilled my drink a  _second_  time! Am I not allowed to  _treat_  myself?”

“How are you- ya know what, nevermind.” Phoenix twisted her head to the side, cracking her neck in the process. “Look, I’m sorry about your coffee, but this isn’t an easy gig! I’m trying, here.”

“Try a little harder then!” Blue eyes flitted between the hero and yet another Grimm, this one looking like a wolf someone had twisted to resemble a man, not quite ‘werewolf’ material, what with all the jutting bone plates, but similar. And, frankly, Winter had had  _enough_. “Would it truly be so difficult to admit you owe me a coffee?”

“I  _what_?” Although frustrated- or perhaps truly angry, considering the waves of heat suddenly rolling off the woman’s body- she turned to throw a punch at the Grimm, landing squarely on its jaw but hardly rocking it backwards in the process. “It’s not enough I’m trying to save your life, now I gotta buy you a stupid coffee, too?”

She had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep from screaming, instead turning to pick up one of the chairs in the coffee shop’s interior. “Obviously  you need a demonstration.”

Without waiting further, Winter stepped forward and jabbed with the chair, the legs of it hitting the Grimm in the gut. While it might not have quite the same physiology as any natural creature, it had weak spots, doubling forward to land on all fours, which made it  _much_  easier for her to lift the chair above her head and bring it down, crashing onto the beast’s head. It slumped to the ground, not unconscious but certainly stunned, and then she sent a pointed glare at Phoenix to finish the job. Which she did, obviously taken aback by the woman’s quick and efficient dispatch of the creature.

But defeating the damned thing wasn’t the point of the exercise as she whirled around and slammed two hundred lien on the counter. “Does  _this_  cover the cost of that chair?”

“Uh, yeah.” One of the employees nodded, clearly taken aback by both the events of the past few minutes and the forcefulness in her voice.

“Excellent.” Reaching up, she smoothed out her collar and threw a withering glare back at Phoenix. “See? Even if you’re attempting to accomplish a good goal, there’s always the chance for negative repercussions. Take responsibility and offer to make amends; I honestly wouldn’t have been so peeved with your flagrant disregard had you simply apologized in the first place.”

“Hey, I-” Suddenly, she stopped, reaching up to scratch behind her head. “Wait…  _did_  I apologize?”

“No. You didn’t.” With that, Winter turned, stepping over the clutter caused by the debris and marching out of the coffee shop.

Although the saying ‘the third time’s the charm’ rang in the back of her mind, she’d had enough of super powered fools in tights for one day. This sort of ridiculousness would never happen back in Atlas; no one would just crash through the city and expect to be seen favorably for it. That’s why she had a job in the first place; the military could protect people just as effectively and with more accountability-

A few… particular incidents came to mind right then, stopping her mental rant dead in its tracks. Okay, so it wasn’t a perfect system, admittedly, but it surely had to be better than getting bowled over by some stranger every other day.

However… in retrospect, she’d been curt with people before when she was on duty and trying to accomplish her missions. She hadn’t knocked anyone down, of course… at least not that she could recall…

Perhaps they were both just having a bad day.

Just before reaching her hotel, Winter came to a sudden stop as Phoenix landed in front of her- far enough away that she didn’t run face first into the woman. However, rather than look like an intentional road block, the hero had her shoulders slightly hunched with a small frown on her lips, a cup from the coffee shop in her hands.

“Hey, uh… look.” She ducked her head slightly, blonde bangs falling in front of the eye holes of her mask. “I  _am_  really sorry about what happened to your coffee, and for, ya know, getting thrown into you earlier. I… was running kinda hot but that’s really no excuse. I  _do_  owe you a coffee and I shouldn’t have been so hardheaded about it. Sorry.”

And then she held out the coffee, lifting her head enough to look at Winter.

To which, she could only sigh. “Let me guess… you have fire powers.”

“Uh, yeah. Is… that a problem?” Meeting the hero halfway, she took the cup from Phoenix’s hand and swirled it around, proving the iced coffee had turned far more liquid than would be normal. “… I just can’t win today.”

“Believe me when I say: my sentiments exactly.” A sigh, one that released some of the tension in her shoulders. “And I shouldn’t have been so short, so I will apologize for that. Even if you were being rude, I was no better the first time I ordered. I suppose karma works quicker in Vale than it does Atlas.”

“Actually, I think it’s just because my uncle’s in town.” Phoenix offered a small, placating smile. “His superpower is, uh, causing bad luck.”

Winter blinked, slowly. “That is a  _terrible_  superpower.”

“Yeah, he’s not too crazy about it, either.” She reached up, fiddling with her hair in its high ponytail. “Hey, listen… since obviously the coffee isn’t working… how about I make this whole thing up to you another way? Say… dinner tonight? At seven?”

Immediately, she frowned. “I will  _not_  be seen out in public with you wearing that.”

“What, not into dating a superhero?” Phoenix flashed a smile before shrugging. “But, no, I get where you’re coming from, and I was gonna dress more… casual.”

Although she really  _should_  dismiss the proposal out of hand on principle alone… Winter somehow found herself shifting her weight as she mulled the proposition over. “Don’t you have a secret identity to consider?”

“With as often as my block gets torn up? I’m pretty sure everyone knows who I am.” A shrug as she looked away. “I mean, if it’s not your thing, I get it. I just thought-”

“I haven’t rejected you yet.” She straightened up. “Unfortunately, my schedule is rather packed today. Tomorrow night, on the other hand…”

“Tomorrow night at seven?” Phoenix gestured at the hotel. “I can pick you up here?”

“Very well. By the way.” Winter held out a hand. “Do you often ask women out on dates before even learning their names?”

Considering the way she began… well, gently smoking, the answer seemed rather obvious. “Uh… well… I’ve made a real mess of this whole thing, huh?”

“Everyone has their off days, I suppose,” she replied, moderately surprised at the hand that took hers- warm and solid. “Winter.”

Another Grimm crashed into the streets as more superheroes appeared, leaping or flying over buildings. Apparently, the battle hadn’t quite ended yet.

“Yang.” A little smirk. “Although, it’d probably be better to call me Phoenix for now.”

“PHOENIX!” Another hero appeared, wearing an almost pure white suit and gliding off what appeared to be a thin sheet of frost, her white hair whipping around her. “Where have you been?”

“Getting a date!” The woman shouted back, though she threw a smile over her shoulder. “See you tomorrow night!”

“ _Do not_  be late.” Winter warned, a smirk curling her lips as she waved, noting the peculiar expression on the other’s face- the one they called Dove, if memory served.

“You got a date?  _With her_?” Something between incredulity and horror was evident in her tone.

“Yeah!” Fire briefly engulfed Phoenix’s hands before she threw a series of punches, sending blasts of flames into the wounded Grimm. “Must be my lucky day!”

For a moment, Dove remained silent before muttering something under her breath and rejoining the fight.

Despite that… odd exchange, Winter didn’t pay it too much mind, instead focusing on the iced coffee- well, the not-so-iced coffee. With a smile curling her lips, she turned, leaving the heroes to their fight and entering the hotel. Swirling the cup, she took the straw into her mouth and took a sip, letting out a pleased hum at the pleasingly cold temperature. 

Just because Atlas didn’t have  _heroes_  didn’t mean they were without supers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I used the names/designs from Dash's Miraculous AU


	21. Captain's Orders

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kapu brought something up in the Elderburnin' NSFW channel and, though I didn’t actually go that route, I was mighty tempted. Just wanted to get this scene out of my head.

Yang swallowed hard, doing her best to keep her composure as her crew hauled Winter onto the deck of the ship. She looked horrible with her naval uniform torn to shreds from two months stranded on an island, a slight tremor in her legs from lack of food and water, and a few cuts that hadn’t yet healed from who knew what- but she was  _alive_ , and that mattered so much more to the Captain just then.

However… she couldn’t exactly say that.

“Looks like we’ve found quite the castaway, haven’t we?” Her voice, loud enough to be heard over the waves crashing against the side of the ship, was met with jeering laughter from her crew. “And what should we do with her, hmmm? This naval officer without the Crown to protect her?”

She began to pace, hoping it appeared to her crew like she was enjoying this. After almost a year of playing cat and mouse with one of Her Majesty’s finest, one would think the renowned pirate Captain Yang Xiao Long would be absolutely glowing with mirth at having found the one who’d chased her so tirelessly now weak and bereft of any manner with which to defend herself.

But in truth, Yang  _didn’t_  enjoy this, not in the slightest. Because while the rest of the world might think them mortal enemies, the reality couldn’t be further from that idea. The whole series of events started with a chance meeting in a port- a night where they fell into bed together, driven more by passion than sense. Or, well, that was true for her, seeing as she rather enjoyed spending a night with a beautiful woman or two before heading back out to sea whenever they made port. It just happened that one night, the woman she decided to indulge with happened to be none other than the Sea Wolf- Captain Winter Schnee, a naval officer in Her Majesty’s employ who excelled at running down and capturing pirates and bounties alike. Yang managed to escape by the skin of her teeth that night- after they’d gone a few rounds because, apparently, the naval woman happened to be in rather dire straights at the time when it came to releasing pent up urges- and gave Winter the slip shortly after. The next time her ship- the feared and famed Longwang- pulled into port, however, she came across the naval Captain again, and for a second time Winter opted to postpone collecting the bounty in favor of rolling through the sheets.

“Part of me says we should make her walk the plank.” She forced a chuckle, throwing her arms wide. “But another says we should repay the favor shown to our kind and let her dance a gallows’ jig. I think she’d dance rather pretty, what say you?”

Her crew roared back with laughter, showing their clear favor for irony, but it made her blood run cold.

After their second meeting, they reached an agreement: on the open seas, they were mortal enemies, but behind closed doors, they were free to indulge in each other without worrying about bounties or reputations or anything else. For a while, it worked for both of them. Yang’s cleverness and crew kept her one step ahead of the naval officer and Winter’s efforts only grew in response, doubling down on her vow to capture the pirate. Meanwhile, their secret rendezvous at ports allowed both of them to find sweet release, enough that the pirate found herself without want for any other company. Then Yang noticed that… well, perhaps things  _weren’t_  working out- at least, it wasn’t enough for her anymore. During the nights they spent together, when they lay panting beside each other with sweat cooling on their skin, they’d begun talking- and pillow talk didn’t surprise her. It was the cravings that began to eat at the back of her mind when they were apart that did- the little questions she wanted to ask when next they found themselves naked and spent, when such answers might fall from her lover’s lips.

“Ah, but it’d be a shame for that, really, without your crew here to see.” She tried to sound snide and cruel, and perhaps the edge to her voice carried that well enough to hide her fury. “But there’s a bit of irony in that, aye? Pirates we may be but we take care o’ our own while the imperious Navy loses one of their finest officers in a storm and don’t even turn back to look for her.”

Because she’d stopped seeing Winter as the naval officer hellbent on arresting her with whom she enjoyed a few dalliances with, no. She’d started seeing Winter as something much more, though she hesitated to put a name to it, lest she lose everything in the process.

“And we’re the ones who get labeled traitors.” Venom dripped from that last line as she mentally cursed the scheming underling who’d effectively staged a mutiny, taking control of Winter’s ship and ordering they sail for port rather than double back for their captain. Cowards, the lot of them. “But we already dealt with them, now didn’t we?”

Another chorus of cheers went up as Winter began to cough, the chilly night air likely biting her down to the bone with how damaged her uniform was. Yang had to make this quick.

“Aye, and I think it’s high time we send a message back to Her Majesty and her naval dogs.” Quickly, she went and grabbed Winter’s arm, roughly squeezing her bicep to prompt a stifled whimper of pain as she hauled the woman closer. “And in the meantime, I’ll be showing the lost Captain my… hospitality.” The entire crew began to whistle at that, jeers coming from all around, before she snapped off her orders. “Make for Agave Port! Full speed! And if anyone even  _thinks_  about disturbing me, I’ll personally shove a cannonball up that person’s ass and toss ‘em overboard. Savvy?”

“Aye aye, Captain!” The crew then launched into a flurry of activity while Yang roughly escorted her prisoner to the cabin, shoving her inside and slamming the door behind her.

“Winter.” The moment they were behind closed doors, she dropped the facade, stepping forward to wrap her arms around the woman and hold her, giving her something solid and warm to lean against. “Thank the Maidens we found you in time. I thought-”

“I didn’t think you’d speak to them like that.”

“What?”

Winter sagged against her, eventually turning her head so they could properly look at each other, and only then did she notice the dullness in normally striking blue eyes and how much the past two months had worn on her. “Your crew. I sometimes imagined how you’d speak to them. It was never like that.”

“I just- I have a part to play. You’re a naval officer and I’m a pirate; I’m supposed to act like that around you.” She gave a helpless shrug, trying to brush formerly white bangs turned almost brown thanks to dirt and grime behind her ear. “I just had to make it convincing. If I did what I  _wanted_  to do… I don’t know how they’d react.”

Apparently summoning her strength, Winter drew herself to her full height, trying to calm the shaking from cold and fatigue through sheer force of will as she offered a small smile. “And what did you want to do?”

Immediately, she popped up on her toes, the differences in their height not so great that she needed to do so but it put the force behind the gesture that she wanted, using one hand clutching at the back of Winter’s head and the other at the small of her back to steady her as they kissed, the urge to cry tears of joy almost overpowering. 

How close had they come to the last time they’d been in each other’s arms being the the  _last_  time? It pained her heart to even consider it, scared her worse than anything she’d faced in over twenty-five years.

Maybe it was the two months as a castaway or just melting into the familiar embrace, but Winter went nearly boneless against her, fingers carding through her hair, knocking off her hat in the process. It didn’t matter-  _nothing_  mattered, outside of the weak embrace.

When they parted, her lover chuckled. “I can see why you would be concerned how they might react.”

“They’re an unpredictable bunch,” she replied with a smile, cupping the woman’s face.

“Much like their Captain.” Winter sighed, resting against her. “I would’ve never guessed missing our night in Onyx Cove would’ve prompted a rescue… but I’m afraid I must insist on a bath before we make up for lost time.”

It stung but she kept her smile in place, if only to steady her voice. “Right. This way.”

Tucked away in the corner of the cabin, she kept a bathing basin, more so she could clean her hair than her body, as she could hardly fit in it. Winter, however, didn’t have the breadth of her shoulders to consider, and she’d grown far more lean in the past two months, though it likely wouldn’t be the comfortable sort of indulgence she’d known. Still, Yang fetched some rainwater they’d collected during the last storm and poured it in, adding oil to the tray beneath it and igniting a flame that it might warm a little. Then, she turned her attention to Winter, whose fingers fumbled with the damaged clasps remaining on her coat.

Wordlessly, she took over, noting that there would be no salvaging the uniform and hoping that some of the extra clothes she’d acquired over the years might fit her lover’s taller frame. Although she’d much rather take her time, Yang hurried as much as she could, not wanting to prolong the woman’s exposure to the cool air in the cabin, but she did allow herself little, reassuring touches here and there. To the wounds yet to heal, to the prominent ribs formerly hidden beneath healthy layers of fat and muscle, to the hollow of her hip where a new scar showed pink in the flickering light of the lanterns- most damning of all, she couldn’t resist pressing a soft kiss to her shoulder, nevermind the lack of bathing, simply because she  _could_. 

How close had she come to being too late?

“I must insist-”

“I know,” she replied, soft. Though the door to the cabin was closed, their agreement only ever involved satisfying… physical demands. An arrangement, an accord- not a relationship. And to Winter’s mind, this wasn’t Yang fretting over her lover; it was just a woman impatient to collect a debt. “I’ll help you in.” Once the naval Captain settled in the basin, the water just barely reaching the tops of her breasts, knees bent to allow herself to submerge at all, Yang shrugged off her coat and rolled up the sleeves of her shirt. Normally, she wouldn’t be buried under so many layers, but she always hated the cold and the northern wind brought with it the sort that bit too deep for her to bear easily. “Let me get your back.”

Carefully, mindful of bruises and cuts, Yang ran a cloth across her skin, clearing away dirt to reveal uneven tans where the sun had burned through the tatters of the woman’s uniform. She could count every rib, see the jut of her shoulder blades, and noted the pain that jolted through her body when the cloth passed over a specific part of her back.

“After I went overboard, I was lost on the waves until I crashed against a rock. It probably saved my life… but the bruise still hasn’t healed.” She winced, shifting in the basin. “I haven’t much time to let it rest.” A chuckle. “So be gentle tonight.”

It felt like a knife in her heart, hearing those words. “… right…” When she finished washing Winter’s back, she stood up and dried her hands on her trousers. “There’s some dried meat and rum on the desk. I’ll go find you some more food.”

Yang left the cabin, not bothering with her coat or hat- for the moment, she wanted the bracing chill of the night air to snap her out of it, to help put things into perspective. Her feet carried her to the starboard side, stepping up on the railing and wrapping her leg through a shroud, leaning against the creaking ropes and staring at the sea and sky beyond.

She’d gone into pirating all those years ago to rebel against the corrupt naval officers who killed her mom and, up until recently, she’d never thought- even for a moment- that she’d ever have any qualms with it. Harassing the navy, stealing their supplies, she’d never questioned it.

But now?

“Yang?” Lilac eyes turned to find Ruby watching her, having climbed down from the crow’s nest. “Everything okay?”

“No,” she replied, always a bit too honest with her sister than was probably wise. “I… don’t have a heading. I don’t know where I’m going.”

“I thought you said that was the best part of being at sea? Sailing for the sake of sailing?” Ruby hopped onto the railing beside her and sat down. “Living for the sake of living?”

“Maybe I was wrong.” A shake of her head. “Maybe that’s how you end up running aground.”

“I thought you’d be really happy.” Her sister frowned, the red cape she wore billowing around her and slapping against the wood. “We found Captain Schnee. Isn’t that what you wanted?”

“She- she has nothing to do with this.” Yang cleared her throat. “It’s something different-”

“Hey.” She looked down to find silver eyes watching her closely. “You know you can’t lie to me, right?”

Her shoulders fell, a frown claiming her lips. “Does the crew know?”

“You haven’t exactly been subtle.” She started ticking things off on her fingers. “You come back bragging about how you escaped arrest but refused to name who almost got you, after that we start getting chased by Captain Schnee, at the next port you disappear like you do but none of the brothels had seen you, then Captain Schnee’s there again, and  _then_  you have us fire  _around_  Captain Schnee’s ship instead of  _at_  it-”

“Okay, alright, I get it.” She slapped a hand to her face and sighed. “So everyone knows…”

“That you have a soft spot for Captain Schnee.” Ruby shrugged. “You wouldn’t have us come all the way out here looking for her if you  _really_  just wanted to kill her when we get back to Agave. So, what’s the problem?”

“It’s not a soft spot, Rubes.” She looked down, at the waves lapping against the side of the ship. When she spoke again, her voice had turned soft, almost as if she feared the words leaving her mouth- which she did. “I love her.”

“I- uh, alright, so that’s… wait, how is that bad?”

Tears stung at her eyes. “Because she doesn’t love me back.”

“What? I don’t- are you sure?” Ruby shifted. “I mean, love, romantic love, isn’t something I, uh,  _get_  or anything, but I just- I’m not connecting the dots here, Sis. How could she not love you back?”

“Because this was just sex to her.” She sagged against the shroud. “That’s how it started for both of us. But for me, it changed, and it didn’t for her.” They were both silent for a moment as tears slipped down her cheeks. “I don’t know what to do.”

Tentatively, her sister offered her suggestion. “Tell her?”

“I can’t.” She scrubbed at her cheeks. “She’s a naval officer on board a pirate ship.”

“Oh, if she turns you down, you could…” Ruby put her hands up. “But you wouldn’t!”

“It doesn’t matter, Sis. There’s a chance and I won’t take it.” Another sigh left her lips.

“Yang, I’m not trying to play devil’s advocate here but… are you  _sure_  you love her?”

“I’d go ashore if she asked me to,” she replied, her tone steady and even. She meant it, with every fiber of her being. If asked, she’d go ashore and never set sail again. She’d run her ship aground and set it aflame. She’d steal the crown from Her Majesty’s head.

If Winter asked it of her, she’d turn herself in and face the gallows. 

“Dad always said that, for all the pain that comes with love, it’s always worth it in the end,” Ruby said, swinging her legs back over the railing and landing on the deck. “As soon as we make port, you should tell her. If not for her, then for you.”

“I’ll think about it,” she replied, staring off into the distance for a while longer. Finally, she came to a decision; in the end, she could only be one of two people. 

She could continue being the pirate captain, being chased by the same woman she would welcome into her bed whenever the chance arose.

Or she could leave the sea, lest she lead her crew to ruin by following her heart rather than her head.

With a sigh, she turned to jump back onto the deck, heading below to collect up some more dried meat, fresh water, another bottle of rum, and a few biscuits before returning her quarters. There, she found Winter had finished her bath and pulled on one of Yang’s long shirts and crawled into the bed she used on the rare times she brought someone back to the ship from port. It hadn’t borne any weight in it since… well, before the naval officer began her pursuit.

“Trouble?” Her voice came out thick, as if she was staving off sleep by the barest margins, and the bottle of rum in her hand gave clear indication why. Clean with a full belly and a comfortable spot to rest- no wonder she felt sleep calling to her.

But Yang merely sat on the edge of the bed and offered her a biscuit. “You should try eating a little more. You’ve got a lot of strength to recover.”

“Might as well put it off for the morning,” Winter said, a frown touching her lips. “Anything I gain now will be burned off tonight.”

Pressing her lips into a thin line, she resolved not to push tonight. In the weeks until they made port, she could bully the woman into accepting nutrition, but right now, rest would be just as good. Standing up, she went to set the food on the desk and took a swig of the rum herself to ease the pain in her chest- or rather, replace it with fire, as the alcohol burned down her throat. She didn’t feel like drinking tonight but might need it to calm her mind enough so she could sleep.

“Rest for tonight.” Yang set the bottle down and started dimming the lanterns, intending to sleep in the hammock strung up beside the bed. “You need it.”

“Why Agave?”

“What?”

“You’ve never shown much interest in Agave Port.” Although still weak, Winter pushed herself up, looking almost like a ghoul in the low light. But she still carried herself as she always did, shoulders straight and chin tilted up proudly- despite all that had been stripped away from her, she remained Captain Winter Schnee, the woman Yang loved. “And if memory serves, there are closer ports.”

“Agave is where your ship pulled in for repairs,” she replied, sitting on the edge of the bed so she could pull off her boots. “We’ll find them there.”

“Is that so.” A noise like a contemplative hum but softer. “I realize I’m in no position to ask… but may I beg a favor of you?”

Pausing, she looked back over her shoulder, afraid of what might be asked of her. Normally, she’d fulfill any request Winter had, when they were behind closed doors, and they’d yet to find an idea the woman entertained that Yang didn’t like just as much. However, something about the way Winter needed another pull from the rum worried her, sent her heart racing in her chest. “Anything.”

“Rather than head west to Agave… head east.” Brows furrowed, Yang turned to look at the woman, who’d decidedly turned her gaze away, focusing on the liquid sloshing within the bottle in her hand. “For weeks, I begged the Maidens to send me visions of you at night. I didn’t have so much faith to think asking for rescue would be possible, so I asked for comfort instead. And I realized that… were I given such a chance to see you again… I’d rather it not be in chains or ropes.”

“What are you saying?” Hope ran rampant, nearly impossible to contain, but she managed to keep her voice even and calm, tempering the thoughts that perhaps she was wrong, that she wasn’t alone in wanting more, because Winter was still weak and possibly delirious. Did she understand what she was saying? 

“I don’t want to return to my post.” She reached up and ran a hand through her hair, damp moonlight spilling over her shoulders. “Some of the crew, I’ll miss. But when I needed them most, the Navy sailed off and left me. You… a pirate, you came and found me. The treasure you prized, forgotten amidst the waves.” She chuckled dryly. “You don’t have to say anything. We have our parts to play, and I can play mine just fine without the title. Leave me in a port of your choosing and my bed will be open whenever you come to call. But Captain Schnee died two months ago, lost at sea. She will chase you no more.”

Yang swallowed thickly, looking away for a moment before steeling her nerves, turning her back to the woman. “We won’t go to Agave if that’s what you want. But it’s funny that you call me the pirate when you’re the one who stole my heart.” A soft gasp behind her but she couldn’t tell if that boded well or ill. So, she continued. “If your bed is the only place you’ll have me, then that’s where I’ll be. But… truth be told, I’d rather be in your heart than your bed.” She took a deep breath. “I love you, Winter.”

The shuffling of fabric, rustling that drew closer, until a hand on her shoulder forced her to turn, and she could see the icy fire that she’d fallen in love with return to blue eyes a moment before they slipped closed, their lips pressing together in a passionate kiss that she fell into, wholeheartedly. She clutched-gently, mindful, but desperate all the same- at the shirt, opening her mouth and giving everything she could, tears slipping from the corners of her eyes. What she would do to keep the woman in her arms scared her but liberated her as well because what regrets could she have? Only that she’d never gotten the chance to utter those words, let them fall from her lips like the rum spilling as it rolled across the floor, forgotten.

When they parted, breathless, she found herself pinned in place by the look in the woman’s eyes, that forceful stare that had drawn them together at first. “I love you, Yang, and Maidens as my witness I feel a fool for not telling you that sooner.”

She pulled Winter closer, buried her face in the woman’s neck and held her tight, overjoyed. That she’d found her alive, that she’d found her at all, but mostly that she’d finally unleashed the words she’d kept locked inside only for the sentiments to be returned. “For what it’s worth, I feel the same. I should’ve told you back in Mistral.”

“I was an idiot back then but being without you made me wise.” A soft sigh. “I just can’t imagine what we’ll tell your crew.”

Yang chuckled, drawing back and smiling wide. “I do.”

Gently, she coaxed her lover, her love, out of bed, retrieving a box she’d steadily filled in the past few months with whatever caught her fancy, though admitting as much made her blush with Winter’s eyes on her.

“You bought me clothes?” Fine silks, silver embroidery, blues that matched her eyes and pristine white that couldn’t be found anywhere else on the ship- Yang had poured a fair bit of her share into purchasing everything. “And when were you planning on giving these to me?”

“I… had an idea.” As Winter began sifting through the available garments, she turned her back to afford some privacy while fumbling over her words. “Just, a passing daydream I liked to entertain, that one day you’d sneak aboard the ship and try to confront me here, but… not to arrest me. I thought… it would be  _rude_  if I didn’t have something to replace what I’d tear off of you.”

“You estimated my tastes rather well.” Sneaking a peek, Yang found the woman looking herself over, trousers tucked into thigh high boots, a double breasted jacket fitting her a bit looser now than it should’ve, and sleeves with silver cuff links making her look more a merchant than an officer. “I think I’ll fill these out rather nicely in a month. Did you take my measurements while I slept?”

“No,” she replied, offering a cheeky smile and holding her hands up, wiggling her fingers. “I did it while you were awake. Just… indisposed.” Then she reached out and grabbed Winter’s hand. “Now, come on.”

Emerging from her quarters, Yang called out, her voice booming and ordering everyone to the top deck. A few grumbled about lost sleep but did as they were bid, until every pirate aboard her ship had amassed, awaiting whatever she might say. 

Ruby happened to be the only one of them smiling, though, as silver eyes darted down to their clasped hands.

“I have an announcement.” She looked at Winter. “Captain Schnee is no longer a member of Her Majesty’s navy. She’s one of us, now.” A pause. “And she’s my co-captain. You’ll give her the same respect you would me. Any questions?”

Silence, for a few moments, before one voice rose up. “Who’s on top?”

Yang’s brows furrowed. “We’re co-captains, so-”

“Not that!” The man corrected. “In bed! Which one of you is on top?”

For a moment, she had a mighty urge to throw someone overboard.

And then her shoulders fell, a little smile claiming her lips; they were  _pirates_ , after all, so one couldn’t fault them for poor manners. “She is.”

“YEAH!” Ruby shouted, thrusting her fists into the air before snatching her hat off her head and turning to the rest of the crew. “NOW PAY UP, YOU BILGE RATS! I WON  _BOTH_  BETS!”

Curses and mutters and complaints and excuses flew, but not one ill word about their newest Captain, and Yang had to laugh at the dumbstruck expression on Winter’s face.

Finally, the woman just shook her head. “Pirates. I’ll never understand you lot.”

“You can’t say that,” she said, stepping closer and teasing a kiss. “You’re one of us now.”

“That I am.” She closed her eyes, resting against Yang for a moment before humming. “And after some rest, I think I’d like to practice my plundering skills.”

Sweeping an arm under Winter’s legs, she lifted her love into her arms and carried her back to the cabin. “Oh, and man the helm! We have a new heading!” She looked at Winter. “Where do you want to go?”

She smiled, reaching up to idly play with a few blonde locks. “It’s been a while since we’ve been to Vacuo and the last trip ended with my ship almost sinking.”

“Make for Vacuo! The first free port!”

“Aye aye, Captains!” The crew chorused back, launching into a flurry of activity to change their course and adjust the sails, Ruby calling out orders while holding her winnings with both hands.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There will be a sort of prequel/sequel to this at some point. I have half of it written; just need to finish and polish.


	22. Enough

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apparently, I forgot to post this one. My bad.

Yang was home when it started. Dad came back from Signal sick, said he’d gotten Qrow to take over his classes in the meantime, but he needed to get better soon because half the staff had come down with some sort of bug. They’d had to break up a fight between students- students who’d just come back from break and were hotheaded, scratching and biting at each other and whoever got close enough- but no one thought the events were related. Beacon’s break was offset by a week, so Yang had missed Ruby, but thought spending her time away from school tending to Dad would be fine. She could still call her sister. It all seemed so mundane.

But then things got bad. Like something out of a horror flick, it went from bad to worst case scenario in a hurry. The students and staff that had gone home to recoup? They weren’t sick from some bug; they were infected. People figured out that pretty quick but word didn’t spread fast enough.

Really, Yang was lucky. She’d just come into the room to check on him, seen the look in Dad’s eyes, and just  _knew_ \- she had to run. And she did, because the thing chasing her wasn’t her Dad anymore, and it was  _relentless_. All through the house, down the stairs, out the front door- she came around the corner of the house, cutting through her Dad’s garden, and it just happened to stumble on a hoe he’d left out the week before. 

She didn’t have to do anything. Just a freak accident that could’ve happened to anyone managed to bring it down and she could breath a sigh of relief. 

“To the left, yellow sweatshirt." 

She glanced over and made a disgusted noise, adjusting the rifle strap over her shoulder. "Come on, too easy. If we’re going to do this, then let’s  _do_  this.”

Eventually, she learned, though. Her hands had to get dirty if she wanted to stay alive.

It hadn’t been easy the first few times but Yang made peace with it. Even if it was possible to reverse the process, most people by this point had turned and ripped apart their loved ones. Friends, family, even pets- if any bit of humanity remained in them, they were just along for the ride and forced to watch as their body did unspeakable things. 

Were the roles reversed, she’d want to be put out of that misery, too. 

So she became good at it- killing zombies. She got on her motorcycle, grabbed one of the boats abandoned by people too freaked out by the rapidly spreading disease to notice, and made a bee line for Signal Academy. At the very least, she could link up with Ruby, and the sisters could worry about what came next. At the very least, they’d have each other. 

“Fine,” the woman beside her replied, scanning even further beyond. “That one, with the green coat." Lilac eyes searched but failed to find anyone matching that description. "Use your scope. Eleven o'clock, five hundred meters out." 

Pulling the rifle around to bear, Yang took a peek through the scope and found the poor bastard, shuffling around behind the dilapidated remains of a car. A smile pulled at the corners of her lips. "Now  _that_  is a challenge.”

By the time Yang had gotten to Signal, all of Remnant had succumbed. She’d listened to the frantic radio traffic the whole way there. Attempts to quarantine the outbreak failed; reports came out that it had spread to every continent before the reports stopped coming at all. The CCT went down. Society fell. 

And in the rubble, she found her little sister, battered and bruised but carrying a bloody sickle and a sniper rifle strapped to her back. 

Ruby was a survivor, above all else.

“Headshots only.” Yang glanced at her companion again, noting the unusual tension in the woman’s shoulders, the sharpness in blue eyes. On the worst of days, Mistral could be a terse, demanding, outright pain in the ass of a woman, but recently they’d become rather good friends. Or so she thought, at any rate. “Winner goes first." 

The sisters weren’t exactly what anyone would think of when it came to the ideal duo to beat the apocalypse. Yang had her strength, sure, and she could win a fist fight, and she could operate anything with a gas pedal, but she wasn’t the best shot; she used a shotgun for the first few years. Ruby, though, despite being smaller, all wiry muscle and speed, now  _she_  had the sharpshooter knack, and her accuracy didn’t diminish just because she had a cutting blade rather than a firearm. Pinpoint precision- that was one of the best skills to have when facing down hordes of mindless zombies, apparently. Conserve ammo, clear out a way through before even moving forward- it helped a lot. 

If it wasn’t for Ruby, they’d never have stumbled across Menagerie in the ruins of Vale. 

"Should I apologize now or later for kicking your ass?” She flashed a smile before settling down in a comfortable firing position, pushing back blonde bangs.

It was Yang’s idea to go to there- a vain hope that maybe someone she’d known had survived the chaos. Patch, being an island, hadn’t stood much of a chance; there was nowhere to run, if you didn’t fight your way through, and a lot of people didn’t know how to fight. Or maybe it just didn’t occur to them. Or maybe they just couldn’t bring themselves to do it.

At any rate, they didn’t find anyone Yang found familiar, but they found a survivor- a cat Faunus with suspicious amber eyes, cautious around them in such a deeply ingrained way. A habit born of years, not the months since everything fell apart. She called herself Menagerie, for the homeland she’d left before any of this started- for the life she’d left behind without realizing she could never go back. 

It… made it easier, Yang thought back then, to leave their names out of it. People have names but it was hard to kill people, harder to watch them die. 

So, the sisters took their new names from the places where they were when it all came crashing down. She took Patch, and Ruby took Signal, and that seemed all well and good for Menagerie. She kept them at arms’ length, though, and earning her trust was like taming a panther- no pun intended. 

But, the three of them made it work. And then, they set out again, because for all that Vale had to offer, they could only watch the city descend so far before it started making them lose hope. 

And none of them had ever gone to Vacuo, so might as well make a world tour of it, right? 

It seemed like a good idea. 

“Just take your shot,” Mistral said, crossing her arms over her chest. Without another word, Yang channeled all the tips Ruby had given her, steadying her breathing and adjusting for the distance, the wind.

Somewhere- in some small town she couldn’t remember the name of- they found another survivor. She called herself Atlas and looked half crazed when they found her, caustic and almost impossible to put up with, but when faced with the three washing their hands of her, she calmed down. She’d been on an airship when the pilot succumbed and had barely survived the crash that followed. Then, when she got back to civilization, she’d found that it had all crumbled to dust, too. 

No wonder she was a little crazy. 

But she had a plan: find her sister. It was all she’d been clinging to for weeks and Yang could feel nothing but sympathy. So, the three became four, and they headed for the coast again. Another boat ride, and they’d be in Mistral; might as well see if they could track the woman down. 

What was the worst that could happen? 

Yang let out a breath while smoothly pulling back on the trigger, the shock of the shot hardly noticeable after years of the monotony. They’d set themselves up rather nicely in what was once a nice hotel, the ground floor boobytrapped all to hell so the zombies wouldn’t get very far if they did get in, and the fire escapes modified to allow the rest of them easy access. It wasn’t a perfect set up but it had a killer view. 

In a blink, she saw that she’d just barely missed the shot, whizzing past the zombie’s ear and making it turn around, search for the cause of the sound- the promise of another meal. "Damnit.“ 

"It was a good try." 

"Yeah, yeah.”

Against all odds, they’d found the woman, too. Atlas talked about her often enough- military, with a distinct distaste for imperfections, high standards and a sharp tongue. The woman they found, though, had dried mud in her hair and dried blood under her nails, outfitted with half an armory’s worth of weaponry and more than willing to use every inch of it. 

Her unit was out in the field when the outbreak occurred; by the time they’d returned, their base was compromised, and in the chaos that followed, she took what she could and started heading for the coast, thinking the same as her sister. 

 Mistral settled down into a firing position of her own, using her rifle to take a shot at the designated target. Unsurprisingly, her round found its mark, and the zombie dropped to the ground like a sack of potatoes. “I do possess the training for this sort of thing." 

"One of these days, I’ll beat you. Just you wait.” She got up, leaning back against the air conditioning unit and sighing. “Alright, so you go first. Truth or dare?" 

It should probably be funny- who plays truth or dare when the world’s come to an end?- but there really were only a handful of things to occupy their time. The five of them had played board games, watched movies, played video games, and any and everything else they could find to make the hours to past. But video games and movies required using electricity, and it was better to save that for night time, and board games usually meant leaving someone out so they could watch the perimeter or trying to fight the wind so they could all play together or just losing interest because, seriously, how many times can you play Monopoly? 

So, it was back to basics. Things like Truth or Dare or Two Lies One Truth or something dumb and silly that let them… at least pretend. That they were still people, beneath the pseudonyms. 

"No; going first means  _I_  ask first.” Mistral sat beside her, legs crossed and rifle cradled in her arms. “So, truth or dare?" 

"Truth,” she said, because she’d learned the hard way that the woman could come up with some seriously wicked dares, and while she’d normally indulge just to see how far they could push each other, today didn’t seem like that sort of day. Not with the crease to the woman’s brow speaking of distracted thoughts.

“What’s your name? Your real name?" 

Yang blinked, glancing at the woman as her heart clenched painfully. "Why do you want to know?" 

"I understand why all of you haven’t just used your names.” Mistral looked away, scanning the horizon. “I understand the need to keep that little bit of distance. To be detached.” Then her gaze returned. “But… I find myself becoming attached. I know it’s not ideal but… well, the world’s already coming to an end. When I lose this fight, I’d like to go with the knowledge that… I learned a beautiful woman’s name before the end of it." 

She nodded, trying to hide the smile on her lips. "Yang. Yang Xiao Long." 

"Yang.” It was the first time she’d heard her name from someone’s lips other than her sister’s in years. And it was said with both affection and reverence. “It’s a beautiful name. Very apt." 

Since the five of them started traveling together, she’d grown… attached would be one way of putting it. Fond, yet another. She liked Mistral- liked teasing her at first when it became apparent that the former soldier took just as much amusement from the mundane task of dispatching zombies as she did, but hid it beneath a stoic expression. She liked that the woman seemed incapable of relaxing, but when she did, she did it in the most undignified way imaginable. She liked that they could talk or sit in silence and it never felt awkward or strained. 

She liked to think that, were things different, she’d have gotten along with Mistral rather well. Maybe even more than that- and why should now be any different?

"What about you?” She looked at the woman again. “What’s your name?" 

"Winter Schnee." 

"Winter?” A laugh. “Well, guess I’m just the kinda girl you need to warm up, huh?" 

And Mistral- no, Winter, laughed at her jokes, enjoyed them, genuinely enjoyed them, and tried making a few of her own. They were terrible, most of the time, but still funny, and they all needed more laughter. "I suppose you are." 

"Then, my turn. Truth or dare?" 

Blue eyes narrowed, suspicious, because Yang could never hide it when she wanted something badly enough, and right now she wanted something very badly. "Dare." 

And that was  _exactly_  it. "I dare you to go on a date with me." 

"Done." 

Yeah, the world had ended. Yeah, they might be the only people left. And, yeah, they might lose this fight along the way. But until then? 

They didn’t have to be miserable. 

They didn’t have to be afraid. 

They might not have a lot of hope but they had love and they had each other. 

And that could be enough. 


	23. Balance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Retelling of the Persephone and Hades myth... but with LESBIANS

Long ago, in the ages before four seasons, there existed only two periods to mark the passage of time: spring and summer. In spring, everything grew renewed and life abounded, but summer would scorch much of it away to clear the path for more new growth the following spring. Raven, goddess of fertility, of growth and grain, oversaw these changes by charging her daughters with the duty of the season. Vernal, her adopted daughter, brought forth new life during spring, and Yang, her only blood child from Taiyang the sun god, burned it all away with the heat of summer. And so time progressed between two periods: life and death.

One day, while walking among the sunflowers in a field wilting from the intensity of her heat, Yang spotted a strange sight: a huge three headed wolf with white fur and blue eyes. Although she yearned to approach, the deity of summer’s heat couldn’t get too close, for fear of injuring the animal. Not that the wolf seemed to mind, bounding over to her with all the care of a newborn puppy, too bright eyed and excited by the world to be fettered by such concerns and- much to Yang’s surprised- its fur wasn’t singed. A cold aura encompassed the beast, shielding it from her heat, and she could pet it from noses to tail without so much as a whimper of concern.

“Hey, little guy,” she said, running her fingers through the wolf’s thick fur and laughing as one of the heads licked her cheek. “Where’d you come from?”

The wolf’s ears perked and it turned, leading the deity through the field and to a cave that lead down, deep into the ground. But it padded along, following a set of stairs down, and Yang followed too, all the way to a river with a single boat and a ghastly ferryman. Rather than enter the boat, the wolf turned, one head nosing beneath her arm while another looked at its back, and she climbed on so the wolf could swim across the river. The further they got from the cave’s entrance, the colder it felt, until the wolf’s claws gouged into ice to lift them out of the river.

Yang looked around, at the ice and the flurries whipped about on cold wind, amazed that nothing she touched here burned or wilted or shrank from her fire.

“Cerberus, there you are, I’ve been- oh.” Turning, lilac eyes fell on the master of this place, for it could only be the land of the dead she’d entered, and the tall woman facing her, clad in robes of white and blue, could only be Winter, Goddess of the Underworld. “Greetings.”

“Hi,” she replied, a smile claiming her lips. “I’m Yang, Raven’s daughter.” Like all the deathless ones, their names were known among each other, but Winter rarely left her domain, even when called by Willow, ruler of them all. “I don’t think we’ve met yet.”

“We are… certainly lacking a proper introduction. I’m Winter, Lord of the Dead.” The Goddess of the Underworld approached, holding out a hand. “Perhaps you’d like a tour of my domain? Very few have seen it.”

“Well, if you’re offering.” Hesitantly, she took Winter’s hand, surprised when the woman didn’t wince or pull back. Even her own mother could hardly approach, and when it came time for Vernal to walk the soil of Remnant and bring forth new growth, she hid beneath a mountain, slumbering until her season came again.

Slowly, they meandered through the Underworld, with Cerberus bounding around them. Yang saw firsthand the punishments that awaited those who angered the gods and the bliss of eternal contentment that awaited those who pleased them. The cold that seemed to permeate the Underworld wrapped around her, comforted her, and Yang found herself relaxing further into it the longer she stayed.

They eventually came to a small field, the trees frozen in full bloom with a thin sheen of ice across them, and beautiful pomegranates hanging heavy from the limbs.

“Wait.” Winter put a hand on Yang’s shoulder as she reached up to pluck one of the low hanging fruit. “Surely, you know the rules; any who eat of the land of the dead become part of it.”

“It’s not like I can die.” She shrugged, holding the fruit, which neither burned nor scorched from her touch. Usually, the only food she could have would be what was sacrificed to her at the alter in Vale, and the smaller shrines dedicated to placating her. They were always charred and blackened, tasting like ash in her mouth, and she yearned for the sweet taste of fruit Vernal spoke of so fondly. “Neither of us can.”

“Still, it will bind you here. It’s decreed by the Fates.” The Goddess of the Underworld frowned, her expression turning grave. “If you eat it, you won’t be able to leave. It’s… no small thing.”

“What about you?” Yang gestured with the fruit. “Can you eat it?”

“Of course. I am master here; I can come and go as I please, no matter what.”

“So why don’t you? Leave, I mean.”

“I have my duties to consider,” she replied, indicating the souls trickling in, directed by Winter’s servants to their appropriate places. “I not only watch over the dead but I keep the living from avoiding their end, or the ends of others. Mortals would not be mortal if they didn’t die.”

“That’s a good point.” With both hands, she squeezed at the pliant flesh of the fruit and twisted, splitting it in half and offering one side to Winter. “I’m guessing Cerberus isn’t affected by it either?”

“No. They are of the Underworld, as I am, and while they’re just as capable of acting in my stead on the rare occasions I  _do_  leave, I don’t think they like it.” Accepting her half, the Goddess took a small bite. “You didn’t cross the river using the boat, right?”

“No, Cerberus carried me across,” she said, turning to offer the other half to the wolf, breaking it into smaller chunks so each head could have a piece. In doing so, however, she picked out a few seeds and slipped them into her pocket, unseen. “I’m guessing that’s another rule?”

“Yes; a toll must be paid, and the ferryman’s a bit… lenient on what is acceptable payment.” She shrugged one shoulder. “It’s not proven a problem yet. I just would prefer if a fellow Immortal isn’t the first to test what might result from that.” An apologetic smile. “I’d understand if you’re a bit bored. I’m afraid there’s really not much to my realm. It’s… perhaps not as bright and warm as the Upperworld.”

“Honestly, I’m okay with that.” Yang slipped her hand into Winter’s again. “Do you have a throne down here? Like Willow does?”

The ruler of the Underworld nodded. “This way.”

Together, they went to a sprawling palace, where souls of the dead lingered, though there were only a few and each of them bore some manner of wound that refused to heal. Winter explained that some heroes chose to be put up in the sky while others dined with Willow; still others chose to dwell in the land of the dead, for those whom they treasured most would eventually go there, that they may watch over them even in death.

As they passed through a grand ballroom, with a chandelier made of ice and lit a ghostly blue, Cerberus began to growl, all three heads snarling as their hackles rose.

Yang quirked a brow. “Did a mortal wander down here?”

“No,” she replied, raising a hand to preemptively block the rubble sent flying as the wall of the ballroom exploded, Raven stepping through with fury written across her expression. “Cerberus only growls like that at uninvited guests.”

“Do not quote etiquette at me, Winter.” Red eyes burned with rage, for though she encouraged growth, she, too, was a Goddess of Death in her own way. “Now, return my daughter or face the consequences. When Willow hears you kidnapped her-”

“Mom,  _I_  came down here.” Putting herself between them, she tried talking her mother down, though unsure how she might fare. When roused, Raven’s temper rivaled only her own. “I was just curious; no harm done.”

“You say that, but all the while you’ve been down here, your heat can’t be felt in Remnant.” She pointed up, towards the world she’d left behind. “It’s as if you’ve gone to sleep and it’s not time for spring yet.”

Yang’s shoulders fell. “I didn’t know that.”

“Well, now you do.” Her eyes narrowed, watching Winter suspiciously. “And I find it difficult to believe you came here of your own will. This place is bleak and dreary, no place fit for a deity- no offense, of course.”

“None taken,” the Goddess of the Underworld replied coolly, setting a hand on one of Cerberus’ heads as the other two continued to growl lowly. “But I must ask you to leave. Only the dead and those with dominion over them may enter here.”

Raven’s expression pinched into one of anger- for was she not also one who commanded life and death? Such remained a point of contention between the two deities- before she turned, ready to leave the way she’d entered. “Yang, come.”

She frowned, looking back at Winter and sighing. “Okay, Mom.”

“You shouldn’t wander off during your season.” As they left the Underworld, she stayed far enough ahead of Yang that only the tips of her hair singed, and it hurt a bit to be ripped away from a place that didn’t seem disturbed by her presence. “You know how vital your role is.”

“Like you’re one to talk about responsibility.” She grumbled in response, though she looked away when her mother quickly glanced back her way. They’d didn’t agree on most things so it didn’t surprise her that she’d landed on Raven’s bad side again.

However, before she could reach the bank of the river, where Raven had forged a path of dirt to cross while the ferryman sat in his boat on the other side, Cerberus darted in front of Yang’s path. In the next moment, Winter appeared beside her, quickly dipping into her pocket and collecting the seeds she’d hidden there.

“I probably should’ve mentioned- there are no secrets in death.” She spoke softly, that Raven might not notice her daughter’s delay.

“I just wanted to plant them.” Yang gestured towards the Upperworld. “If they grow, then I could have the fruit, right?”

“The seeds are dead. They can  _only_  grow here, where death abounds.” Winter frowned, blue eyes darting towards the other Goddess’ retreating form. “I’m sorry, truly, but the Underworld is always open to you, if ever you wish to return.”

“Thanks.” 

Offering a small smile, she ran her fingers through the fur on Cerberus’ heads before heading across the bridge her mother made, the dirt dissolving behind her every step. The ascent went much quicker than the descent, and Yang found herself standing in the Upperworld once more, where her heat smothered all she surveyed.

As she had done many times before, Yang walked until all had burned away, wilting beneath her might, and clearing the way for Vernal to bring new life to Remnant. With her sister awoken, it came time for Yang to return to the mountain where she waited out the spring months, but she did not return there. Instead, she found the cave and the stairs, descending to the Underworld, so that her presence might not be felt in the lands above.

At the edge of the river, she acknowledged the ferryman and whistled, hoping Cerberus might hear- which they did, bounding to the other side of the river and immediately diving in, excitedly greeting her as soon as they’d shaken the water from their fur.

“Hey, buddy.” She chuckled, turning her head as three tongues tried to lick her at once, the weight of the beast quite nearly bowling her over. Somehow, she managed to keep her bearings until Cerberus calmed down, their tail wagging excitedly. “Mind if I catch a lift?”

Politely lowering their shoulder, she climbed onto the wolf’s back with ease, and they plunged into the river once more to cross it.

And when they came upon the bank on the other side, the two were greeted by a crowd of ghosts bearing baskets filled with various fruits that looked a bit past their prime and, in a flash of cool blue light, Winter appeared amidst them with a smile on her lips.

“Welcome back,” she said, gesturing to the baskets. “These were brought down from Willow’s garden. You…  _should_  be able to eat them.” Yang’s brows rose. She’d never been invited to the ruling Goddess’ domain; Raven went whenever summoned, and Vernal too, when she was awake, but Yang’s heat could be too stifling for comfort, even for an immortal. But she’d heard stories of the celestial fruits and meats offered to her, the ambrosia that bubbled from fountains, and hoped one day she might get to taste it for herself. “I’m afraid being down here subjects them to… well-”

“I’m sure they’ll be delicious,” Yang replied, sliding off Cerberus’ shoulder and grabbing the first one she could, biting into it quickly. The perpetual cold swirling through the Underworld shielded the fruit from her flames and the slight decay beginning to infect it only slightly diminished the sweetness of the juice as it dribbled down her chin. She hummed her appreciation while continuing to eat, unable to stop now that she’d tasted even a shadow of what she’d always dreamed. “What  _is_  this?”

“That’s a plum.” Winter smiled wider, waving over a few of her servants. “Here, there’s more to try.”

Slowly, she worked her way through the baskets as they walked to the palace, arriving in the dining hall, resplendent with even more baskets from the garden on high. Finally, her curiosity won out again. “How did you get all this?”

“I visited Willow, of course.” The Goddess of the Underworld winced slightly. “It was… long overdue, by her estimations, so she was rather generous with fulfilling my requests. Probably as encouragement to return.”

“Wait.” Yang paused, halfway through the rib of a pig and throwing the remainder to Cerberus, who seemed to enjoy the food just as much as the pomegranate from her last visit. “Did you only go up to see her because of me?”

“Well, Raven  _did_  make a scene about the whole fiasco, so I thought it prudent to tell my side of the story.” She tapped her fingers against the table, blue eyes looking away briefly. “Though… honestly, I probably wouldn’t have bothered if I didn’t suspect my mother’s garden to be resistant to my domain.” A shrug of her shoulders. “If Willow wished to berate me, she’d come down here herself.”

She couldn’t help the way her lips curled into a small grin, heat coming to her cheeks enough to overpower the cold in the air. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“Of course I didn’t  _have_  to.” Winter smiled. “I simply  _wanted_  to.” Then she grabbed a goblet, fashioned after a skull with its mouth open in a never ending scream. “I’m pleased to see my estimations proved correct.”

Yang grabbed her own and lifted it in a toast, relishing the sweet ambrosia that slid down her throat as she drank.

For the whole time she was meant to sleep, Yang ate and drank in the Underworld, with Winter running up to her mother’s garden to fetch more periodically. Not that she didn’t do other things, of course; the two immortals wandered the Land of the Dead, conversing about everything they could think of during their walks. Winter spoke of the ancient histories- how Willow came to be, how she molded other immortals, every deity no matter how small- and Yang regaled her with the things she’d seen while walking the Upperworld- how mortals toiled yet found happiness amid their strife, how lush and lively everything looked in the distance before she arrived, how beautiful the stars looked on a cloudless night. 

But time did not stop. Eventually, Vernal returned to slumber and Yang had to leave the Underworld.

When the time came, the Goddess of the Underworld seemed the more reluctant one as they stood at the edge of the river with Cerberus just behind them. “You’ll return? At the end of your season?”

“Yeah.” She smiled, slipping her hand into Winter’s for the little time they still had together. “I’ll be back.”

“Part of me wishes I could walk beside you.” A frown tugged at her lips. “But I would just bring death, and not the sort your sister could reverse come spring.”

“It would almost be worth it to see the look on my mom’s face though,” she said, laughing at the imagine of Raven, thoroughly ticked off at having the debate settled once and for all. But the mortals would suffer for it and Yang had never been a vindictive deity; it wasn’t  _their_  fault she had these responsibilities, even if they benefited from them. “It’s almost time.”

“Very well.” Winter squeezed her hand briefly, a smile on her face. “I look forward to your return.”

Cerberus ferried her across the river and she ascended to the Upperworld with the wolf following close behind, only stopping when she reached the mouth of the cave. There, they sat, whining until she’d pet all three heads and then went on her way.

Several seasons passed. Each spring, Yang would descend to the Underworld, to dine with Winter amongst the dead with fruit, meat, and drink bargained for from Willow’s garden, and each summer, she walked Remnant alone.

Finally, she reached a crossroads.

“Is something on your mind?” Winter prodded midway through one spring. “Your thoughts seem heavy.”

“I know the rules and what it means to break them,” she said, idly tracing a pattern through the fur on one of Cerberus’ heads. “But I’m finding less and less reasons to follow them.”

The Goddess of the Dead tapped her fingers against the table, lips pressed into a thin line. “I’m guessing this is something your mother might not like.”

“She’ll be livid.” A shrug. “But I don’t really care.”

“Then… what’s holding you back?”

Lilac eyes cast around, at the dreary castle, and the dark and the cold, this place that seemed so at odds with the fire in her soul, yet also the only place she could claim to find peace. A home, as fit as any other. “I’m not sure if you’ll approve.”

Winter paused, grabbing her goblet and taking a long pull. Then, she sat back in her chair. “Will it make you happy?”

“Yes.”

A nod, then something occurred to her- almost an afterthought. “Will it threaten the immortals?”

“No.”

“Will it harm mortals?”

“… maybe.”

She nodded. “Then I see no reason to object.” A shrug. “Suffering is the plight of mortals and Willow’s done worse with much less consideration. Whatever you have in mind, you have my support.”

“Even if it means fighting my mother?”

“She’ll have to get through mine first.”

A smile curled her lips. “Alright.”

Then she got up, Winter and Cerberus trailing behind, and went to the field of pomegranate trees. She picked one of the fruit and split it in half as she did before, offering one side to the Lord of the Dead and the other to the wolf while keeping a handful of seeds for herself. At that point, it had to be obvious what she planned but Winter made no motion to stop her.

But she did ask. “Are you  _sure_  this is what you want? I haven’t anything to offer you haven’t already seen.”

“I’m sure,” she replied gathering the seeds into her palm. “All I really want is your company.”

“You have that, for a whole season-”

“I want more.” Yang felt a little silly saying it. She  _should_  be content with her duties, with the sacrifices and walking through Remnant year after year. But she couldn’t be, not anymore, not when she knew she could be somewhere with someone who actually  _enjoyed_ her presence.

For a moment, Winter watched her. Then, she deliberately dropped down to one knee and bowed her head. “Then all I have is yours. Become my Queen and rule beside me. Let this land become as much yours as it is mine, and I will remain by your side until the end of time.”

Without hesitation, she tilted her head back and popped the seeds into her mouth, swallowing them down whole.

In the next moment, Cerberus began to growl and bark, darting in front of Yang even as a familiar presence disturbed the peace of death.

“YANG!” Raven appeared, furious, red-black energy swirling about her as she stalked across the field. “WHAT. DID. YOU. DO?”

Before she had a chance to respond, Winter stepped up beside her and put up a hand, stopping the angry deity in her tracks. “You will address her in a civil tone or I will throw you out.”

“WHO ARE  _YOU_  TO GIVE  _ME_  ORDERS?”

“Master of this land for one.”

“And your new daughter-in-law for another,” Yang said, and she’d be lying if she didn’t relish the look of pure, unadulterated rage that flashed over her mother’s face.

“WHEN I GET MY HANDS ON YOU-”

“Immortal means you cannot die, Raven; it doesn’t protect you from pain.” Winter’s tone turned ice cold as a wind began to whip through the Underworld, the sound of a hundred thousand voices shrieking echoing from beneath their feet, where the souls of the dead congregated. “And I am well versed in that arena as well. Have you forgotten which of us is charged with delivering unto those who have earned them the punishments Willow hands down?”

“DO YOU THINK I FEEL FEAR?” Though she charged her daughters with the seasons, Raven could call upon the same powers, and from beneath her feet sprung ferns and vines, flowering and bearing fruit even amidst the Underworld’s death and decay. “HAVE  _YOU_  FORGOTTEN WHICH OF US CONTROLS  _BOTH_  SIDES OF THE COIN?”

Cerberus snapped at the encroaching greenery, pressing close to Yang’s side, and she felt a tendril of fear worm its way into her heart. She’d only made the comment about fighting her mother in jest; she honestly didn’t expect Winter to do so. But she could hear the muffled, distant sounds of a million soldiers marching, echoing up from the depths of the Underworld to join Winter in battle.

She managed a single step, to try and stand between them, diffuse the situation, but all turned white in that moment.

“What are you  _idiots_  bickering over now?” Sat upon a throne of clouds, Willow surveyed them with disdain in her expression and a carafe of wine in her hand. Her gaze flicked between Raven and Winter while the two stared each other down, left diminished in their capabilities now that they stood in Willow’s realm. Then her brows drew together. “And why did it suddenly get so much warmer- ah.” Her eyes fell on Yang with the weight of a mountain, just as blue as Winter’s but somehow sharper. “You. Yang, correct? It’s about time you came to this place.” Willow glanced at the others. “Do  _you_  know what’s going on between these two?”

“I… sorta caused it.” She admitted with a smile that faltered under the intense gaze directed her way. “I-”

“Wait.” And she stood, the ruler of the Immortal Ones, creator of all, her eyes narrowing as she peered and saw the truth. “Last I checked, you brought the heat of summer wherever you went as its patron; since when did you hold any dominion over death?”

“Since about five minutes ago?” Yang scratched at the back of her head, unsure how she might explain herself, but then she caught sight of Winter out of the corner of her eye. Steady, unyielding, and smiling gently- an encouragement and a promise that she would honor her word. Even in the face of one who could strip them of their powers, she would stand beside Yang. So she straightened up, tilted her chin defiantly, and met Willow’s gaze without faltering. “I ate the fruit of the Underworld. That’s where I belong now.”

“Over my dead body!” Raven snapped, obviously prepared to continue her advance but stopped when Willow held up a hand.

“You know the rules the same as I; if she’s eaten of the Underworld, she’s bound to that place.”

“You brought her  _here_!”

“The rules don’t apply to me.” A careless shrug. “Consider it a perk of being the master of the world. A job  _you_  could’ve easily taken, mind.” Ignoring Raven’s glare, her gaze returned to Yang. “Did you eat the fruit of the Underworld to shirk your duties?”

“No,” she replied.

“Then why did you eat the fruit?”

“Because…” She trailed off, reaching for words, trying to articulate what had passed through her mind while looking around. Finally, it clicked. “It’s where I want to belong.”

“Meaning?”

“When I bring the heat of summer, I am a nomad of Remnant; I don’t belong anywhere. Until I met Winter, any time I didn’t spend bringing the fury of my season, I slept beneath a mountain.” Without looking, she reached out, calmed by the hand that found hers, fingers lacing between her own in a silent show of support. “After we met, I had a place to belong, a place that felt like home, just like you have this place. But, I’ve only been a guest, and I didn’t want that anymore. I just…” She turned her head to find Winter watching her, pride glinting in her eyes, and something else, something much softer. “I love her. And she makes me feel loved, too. There’s nowhere else I feel like that, so why would I want to leave?”

“I see.” Willow drank from her carafe and sighed, leaning back in her gilded chair. “And if I were to pull the seeds from you, revoke that which binds you there-”

“You would have to kill me first,” Winter said, stepping up and meeting her mother’s gaze with a cold fire, words edged with razor sharp intent. 

“Then the feelings are reciprocated.”

“She is my Queen.” Resolute, she nodded. “I’ll take her to wife, if she’ll have me.”

“Marriage. Such a charming mortal convention.” Willow sighed, massaging her temple. “But, an elegant solution, I must admit.”

“What  _possible_  solution could a marriage offer?” Raven snapped, all the fury of a spring storm gathering around her, lightning crackling along her hair.

“As Queen of the Underworld, Yang will be able to come and go as she pleases, since she’d be afforded the same dominion over the Underworld as Winter.” She made a vague gesture. “That would return us to the status quo, of course, but for getting  _me_  involved, you  _both_  will be punished.”

“I DIDN’T  _ASK_  FOR YOUR INTERFERENCE!” Yang winced, both at her mom’s shouting and at agreeing with her, for once.

“It’s too late to argue; I’ve already decided on your punishment.” Blue eyes bounced between the two. “Wait, we’re missing someone. Where’s that other whelp of yours?” With a snap of her fingers, she pulled Vernal from wherever she’d been to stand before her. “There. Now, with Winter and Yang marrying, that means our families are joined, which I’m not exactly thrilled about.” Willow shot a hard look at Raven. “However, they seemed pleased with the arrangement, so we’ll proceed accordingly. I  _do not_  tolerate laziness, which means  _all of you_  will have to attend to your duties accordingly. Henceforth, there will be  _four_  seasons: spring, summer, fall, and winter- and guess which one  _you’re_  going to have.” Her gaze moved to Winter at the ending line. “For three months, each of you will bring your season to Remnant. Spring, then summer, then fall- that’s you, Raven- and then winter, before the cycle begins again. That’s fair.”

A frown touched Yang’s lips. For half of every year, she wouldn’t be able to even  _see_  Winter? How did  _that_  constitute fairness?

She almost said as much before the hand still holding hers gave her a light squeeze, reassuring her. 

“Fine,” Raven said through gritted teeth, apparently mollified by the idea that Winter had additional responsibilities- and perhaps by the implication that her daughter would reap little benefit from the whole situation. “But  _nothing_ will grow in Winter.”

Willow smirked, then, that famous little curl of her lips that told mortal and immortal alike that they couldn’t see what  _she_  could. “We’ll see about that.”

With a snap of her fingers, Willow’s domain fell away, replaced by the comforting chill of the Underworld, Cerberus immediately pouncing upon Yang and whining, tail wagging viciously as two heads tried to lick her face.

“Easy, easy, down!” She laughed, noting the third head trying to bury in Winter’s chest, and they both managed to get the wolf to calm enough that they returned to all fours while running around them. “Winter, are you sure about this?”

“As certain as death,” she replied, gently cupping her cheek and drawing her into a soft, smooth kiss that soothed her worries. “Mother gave me more duties, yes, but she didn’t take away any of my power.” Then, she knelt down, calling her faithful hound to her. “Cerberus. You know what Mother has charged me with, correct?” All three heads nodded. “Will you walk Remnant in my stead and bring the winter with you?”

Three ground shaking barks answered her, and both of them began petting the wolf as thanks.

“Raven will be furious when she finds out,” Yang said, softly, as if her mom might be able to overhear.

“How will she?” Winter raised a brow. “She now bears a season, too. She won’t be able to walk on Remnant during a season other than hers and I’ll know if she sets foot in the Underworld, the same as you. There are many places to hide in death.”

A surprised laugh left her lips. She hadn’t considered it before but oh how delicious an irony it was. 

And so it fell that Remnant had four seasons instead of two and that the Underworld had two rulers rather than one. True to her word, Winter imbued Yang will all her powers over the dominion of death and decay, and held her above all others in her heart. After a few years of enjoying their time together, uninterrupted save for her three month forays to bring summer to Remnant, Yang began to think not of just which duties she’d been given but what other strengths she may possess. She carried the heat of her father; it stood to reason her mother had to give her  _something_  aside from responsibilities she didn’t want, right?

In time, they proved Willow’s wisdom sage, and proved there  _could_  be growth in Winter.

One of the many benefits, Yang found, to being the daughter of a fertility goddess.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Why? Because I can.


	24. Family Business

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Based on a suggestion from Anton. One of two Mafia AUs I have now.

Winter stared at the shop, straightening her tie by rote and watching as the last customer left the waiting area, taking his sweet time clamoring into his vehicle and driving off. The sun had already set and the lights were being shut off, everyone except the head mechanic and her sister having gone home for the day. It would be ideal to corner the woman alone, enough shakedowns had taught Winter that limiting her target’s backup always provided results, but it would be hard to separate the siblings without direct intervention. 

“You two stay in the car,” she said, popping open her door. “I’ll handle this." 

"Winter-" 

"This is my job.” She turned to look into the backseat, meeting her sister’s gaze evenly. “You run the branch, Blake’s your bodyguard, and I’m your enforcer. Ideally, no one will even know your name, much less your face.” With a nod to the Faunus behind the wheel, she exited the car. “Go grab something to eat. This’ll take an hour at most; meet me at the motel on the corner." 

"Be careful,” Blake said, amber eyes darting towards the mechanic shop. “Valens don’t intimidate easy." 

"That was before they met me,” she replied, settling into a role she’d been trained to embody since birth. She didn’t have the enigmatic charm Weiss possessed, the sort of imperiousness that could be endearing, but she did have the kind of set to her jaw and tilt to her shoulders than would make men twice her size back down, an unspoken sort of dangerous intent that even a blind man could see. Without lifting a finger, she could inspire fear, but not loyalty- not the way Weiss could. So, she would not be a leader in that sense, but she would lay the foundation for her sister to build an empire over her own in this country. Whatever it took.

_ding_

“Sorry, we’re closing up shop for the day!” A cheery voice rang out as the younger mechanic rounded the counter, a smile on her lips that faded as she noticed no cars out in the lot and no recognition sparked by the pristine white suit Winter wore. “I’m, uh, sorry. Is there… something I can help you with, though?" 

"Where’s your sister?” The icy edge to her voice made the young woman flinch; between the two, the little sister seemed the least keen to interact with others, always a touch shy unless suitably distracted, rambling on about whatever caught her interest. “She’s closing up.” And then she seemed to steel her nerves, a frown coming to her lips. “I’m sorry, Ma'am, but you’ll have to come back tomorrow." 

"Hey, Rubes, what’s the-” Then the elder sibling appeared, jumpsuit stained with oil and who knew what else, grease smudged on her cheeks as lilac eyes fell on the newcomer. “Hold up… I’m sorry, Ma'am, but we’re closed." 

"Yang Xiao Long.” Winter clasped her hands behind her back. “I’m here regarding a business proposal from my employer." 

"Look, if you’re part of that chain trying to buy us out-" 

"I assure you, I’m not some corporate lackey.” Her eyes narrowed. “And you have much worse than being bought out to consider as a potential future." 

They held each others gaze, silence stretching thin in the shop’s little waiting area. 

"Ruby, go home,” Yang said, a note of urgency in her tone. 

“But-" 

"Go on.” The blonde nodded towards the door. “I’ll take care of this.”

Although reluctant, the younger of the two complied, grabbing the hooded cape she wore everywhere but at work and throwing it around her shoulders, the door bell ringing out as she exited the shop. 

“Smart move." 

"Shut up.” Moving around the counter, Yang went and locked the door, closing the blinds along the way. “I’m not the sharpest knife in the drawer but I’m not deaf. I’ve been hearing all the little whispers about a bid bad mafia family moving into town." 

"Then you’re well aware of the wonderful opportunities I can offer you. On behalf of-" 

"Shove it.” Now more or less in privacy, the mechanic turned back towards her, brows drawing together as she scowled. “I’m not rolling over, shilling out protection money to a bunch of crooks.” She reached up, pulling apart the top portion of the jump suit to reveal a threadbare yellow tank top beneath, chiseled muscles of her arms on display as the sleeves were tied around her waist. Her core- just as defined- became visible with every breath, the tight material stretched to its limit as she settled into a fighting stance, both fists raised. “I don’t know how many of you there are, but I know how many I’m gonna take down.  _All_  of you." 

"I’m not here to start a fist fight. You’re an investment-" 

"Like Hell I am!” Anger and pride ignited in her lilac eyes, making them dance. “This is my terf, not yours. I’m not some cash cow for you to milk." 

"You’re insisting on doing this the hard way, is that it?” Her expression didn’t break, even with the little lilt in her voice. “You’re willing to start a fight with me… with the hope that your sister will be waiting for you at home, safe and sound, when you’re done.”

Panic flashed in the blonde’s expression, all her bravado thrown aside as real fear crept into her voice. “You wouldn’t- she’s my little sister,  _you wouldn’t_.” And then the anger came back. “Don’t hurt her!" 

Winter had done far too many intimidating shakedowns to count but this marked the first time she heard those words, and the first time she was snapped away from the present to relive a memory she’d thought she’d buried. Her entire life revolved around fear, intimidation, and manipulation- it would surprise no one that it extended to her home life as well. But she remembered, clear as crystal, the day their father gave Weiss her scar, the day she tried to be a real big sister and protect her… and she remembered saying those words just before she learned the hard way that doing the right thing meant paying a very steep price. 

"She won’t come to any harm,” she said, the words leaving her lips before she had a chance to process them, and she had to bite back a curse as she effectively dug a hole for herself. Too much emotion had slipped out- the words sounded honest and genuine and she meant them, and Yang didn’t miss that fact. “If you cooperate." 

But it was too late. She’d shown too much of her hand and now the mechanic felt emboldened. "Oh, so somewhere in there lurks a real person, huh? You got a conscience under all that blood on your hands?" 

"I do exactly what you’re doing now- I protect my family." 

"Bunch of criminals make for a lousy family." 

"So you weren’t born to a mechanic?” She took a few steps away, shifting her attention to a picture on the wall- a father, and two smiling daughters, in front of the very same shop. “You came to this life of your own volition?”

“It’s not the same-” 

“Yes, Yang, it is.” Winter looked back at her, trying to recapture the intimidation she’d had before, inspire the same fear. “This is the life I was born to live. I’m an enforcer- I work for my family to protect their interests. Become one of those interests, and I’ll protect you, too." 

"What kind of family requires a weekly joining fee, huh?” Yang jabbed a finger at her. “Don’t sell this as something it’s not. You’d rather bleed us dry than get your own hands dirty." 

"Oh, I’ll beat you bloody, if that’s what you’d prefer.” She brought her hands around to the front, made a show of cracking her knuckles. “Getting my hands dirty is my job. And the fee is just… upkeep." 

"Upkeep?" 

"Keeps police and inspectors away, encourages business- everyone who joins the family helps each other out. That’s how it works." 

"And anyone who wants to move away gets erased from the records, permanently,” Yang said, settling back into her stance once more. “I’m not that dumb." 

As much as she didn’t want to admit it, she could admire the fire she saw shining in the woman’s eyes. The courage, the drive- how could she not? But she had a job to do. 

"We’re looking to build a… different sort of family here.” She settled into a stance of her own. “We’d much rather handle things amicably." 

"What part of extortion is amicable, exactly?" 

"Do you know how they do things in Atlas?” Winter began to circle, keeping herself loose and watching for an opening. “First, they pick a place they like. Then, things start to go wrong there- all sorts of things. Slashed tires, broken windows, mysterious fires- enough to put a place out of business. And then someone shows up, and it all goes away… for a price.” She offered a small shrug, as if the whole thing bored her. “I always thought it a bit extreme." 

"Oh, so this is the kinder, gentler mafia?”

“If you’d rather, we can go things the old school way." 

"How about this?” Yang shot forward, throwing a punch that moved as fast as lightning, and if she hadn’t been anticipating such, she would’ve been laid out in one hit. However, Winter didn’t expect the second strike- didn’t think the woman could move quite that fast consistently considering her solid build, but she managed to block or dodge effectively. She’d been in too many fights by this point to be taken entirely off guard, and despite the elbow to her gut, she managed to sweep Yang’s legs from beneath her. With the blonde landing solidly on her back, winded, Winter quickly put her forearm across the woman’s neck. That should have been the end of the fight. Most people would stop there, because what was keeping Winter from killing her? But Yang saw the restraint and exploited it, used her superior strength to roll both of them over until she found herself trapped beneath the mechanic, arms pinned to the sides of her head. “No one’s coming in to save you, huh?” Lilac eyes narrowed, anger still in her voice. “If one hair on Ruby’s head-" 

"There’s no one else,” she said, struggling and failing to dislodge the woman atop her. “I came alone. I told you; we do things differently." 

"Why? Why did you come to Vale?” 

Winter remained silent for a moment but caught in that lilac gaze… the truth poured from her lips. “We can’t change Atlas. We can’t save it. But if we set up a foothold here, we can stop it from happening again." 

"You didn’t like the way your bosses did business, so you decided to come do it yourself?” The woman rolled her eyes with a sour frown. “How enterprising of you." 

"It’s not that simple." 

"Than simplify it.” The grip on her wrists tightened. “Or else.”

“Or else what?” Winter raised a brow. “For all your disdain of criminals, you’ll become one yourself and kill me?" 

"It’s self defense." 

"Of course it is.” She sighed, irritation plain in her voice. “It’s almost like I ensured you’d have that excuse." 

”… what do you mean by that?“ 

"If I’d come in broad daylight, spoke softly, let your anger be seen by others, would you have the same defense? Would anyone believe your word over mine?” Winter glanced down at her suit. “As far as the public’s concerned, I’m the daughter of a businessman. And you’re a mechanic who got mad at a customer- you do realize this could’ve gone very wrong for you, yes?” She tilted her head. “But now-" 

"Now I could just dump you outside and call the cops in the morning. Act like I didn’t know a thing- you just got mugged and left on my doorstep.” Her grip relaxed a little. “You’re really banking on me not killing you, huh?" 

"I’m betting on you having a better conscience. You’d be surprised how few morals are instilled in children who grow up as part of the family." 

Slowly, Yang’s grip relaxed even more as her expression smoothed out. "You don’t mean you were just the kid of some low level thug. You were up there." 

"My father is the boss in Atlas. He took my grandfather’s idea of building an alliance between businesses and perverted it into what you hold such a great disdain for,” Winter said, weighing her options. She might regain the upper hand, regain her feet, but she couldn’t beat the mechanic in a fair fight. And she’d really rather not shoot the woman. “My sister and I came to Vale because we know this is where he’s coming next. If we can build up before he gets here, we can stop Vale from becoming another Atlas." 

Slowly, the pressure on her wrists disappeared entirely, though she couldn’t quite get up yet with Yang hovering over her, lilac eyes searching her expression. "Lord help me, but I think I believe you.” She sighed. “What would joining your family mean for me and mine?”

“We need a place to start laundering money. An honest business- you keep doing what you’re doing and we’ll just be using your books on occasion.” 

“And what’s the price?" 

"You’re one of our first partners.” This part Weiss had explicitly ordered her to abide, despite her arguments that it would set a bad precedent. Still, she had to obey if they were going to get anywhere in Vale. “You can name your price." 

Yang seemed to mull the thought over before nodding. "Fine.” And then she reached for Winter’s tie, yanking on it to pull her up and into a kiss. Not rough or hard, not even that long, and it left her blinking in surprise and confusion as the mechanic pulled back. “There. Am I paid up for the week?" 

In that moment, she should’ve got angry. Should’ve lectured that this wasn’t a game, that she should be taking this seriously. Should’ve demanded a real answer. Instead, she replied. ”… no.“ 

One hand buried in greasy blonde locks, and she smelled of oil and sweat, but at that moment, Winter didn’t rightly care. What they were trying to do was insane, she’d accepted that, but she’d yet to fall victim to the madness herself. Apparently, it would find her anyway, in her sister’s insistence that they could beat their father at the game he created, in this mechanic willing to fight to protect her shop, and now in herself for wanting nothing more than those hands on her again, this time with less of an intention to bruise and more to soothe. 

Maybe madness was the only way to make sense of the world.

* * *

An hour later, Winter watched as Blake pulled up, getting into the passenger seat without a word and merely nodding for the Faunus to continue driving. "It’s done; the mechanic agreed to be a front." 

"Winter, what happened? You look like you fought a grizzly bear." 

She winced, hoping that the details would be left well enough alone. "Nothing of import. Intimidation didn’t work, so I had to use other means.” Eventually, she sighed, passing a hand over her face. “And… the mechanic agreed to put us in touch with more places that might be open to an arrangement." 

"That wasn’t part of the plan.” Blake noted, those keen amber eyes drifting her way and staying for just a second too long. “Did you two decide that before or after the hickey?" 

"Hickey- Winter.” Her sister leaned forward, noting that her disheveled state wasn’t the byproduct of a fight, at least not entirely. “What happened?" 

"I let her name her price,” she replied, reaching up to straighten her tie before remembering that she didn’t have it anymore. “In hindsight, I should’ve taken into account that she’s… very…" 

"Attractive?” The Faunus offered, that little curl to her lips indicating amusement. “Would explain why you insisted on handling it alone." 

"Don’t you start-" 

"Both of you, stop it.” Weiss pinched the bridge of her nose. “I can’t believe this. But… she _is_ on our side?” At her nod, the woman sat back and sighed. “I suppose that’s what really matters. But be careful, Winter. You know this could be used against you." 

From the corner of her eye, she saw the way Blake’s ears flicked and the pensive expression on her face. Winter felt tempted to call her sister out on being a bit hypocritical, but opted against it. After all, they’d gotten this far on madness; no sense in trying to apply logic now.

Meanwhile, at a little house just down the road from the mechanic shop, Yang stumbled through the door and plopped down on the couch, putting her face in her hands and sighing heavily. Already she could hear her sister coming down the hall, hurrying to the living room with relief evident in her voice. 

"Oh, Yang, I’m so glad you made it home, I-” And then she stopped dead in the entryway. “Yang… why are you covered in scratch marks? And bite marks? And… is that that woman’s tie?” A beat of silence. “What the hell happened?" 

"Well… either the best thing to ever happen to me,” she replied, turning slowly to look at her sister. “Or the biggest mistake. Jury’s still out on that." 

And she really wasn’t sure when she’d find out.


	25. Redline

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt from bman: Elderburn rivals to lovers racing. This is the result.

Yang ran a cloth over her helmet’s visor, having polished the damn thing almost twenty times but needing something to keep her hands busy. Three years into her career and she was minutes away from starting the biggest race of her life. She  _should_  feel nervous, the sort of anxiety that comes with moving in excess of a hundred miles an hour, where one bad twitch could spell her end, but she thrived on the adrenaline, on the rush that came with crossing the finish line. Racing motorcycles professionally- it was like the sport was made with her in mind, the twist and turns calling to a need that ran through her blood, with every beat of her heart. She loved it.

But this race… if she won, it would be smooth sailing. The best of the best, veterans who’d been racing since before she could even shift gears without grinding the clutch- even as little more than a rookie, she had a spot of her own beside them. Two years on the lesser circuits and just this one to race alongside some of them; racers didn’t get breaks like that, not in this line of work. Not when everyone constantly tuned and tweaked and refined, but she had something of a hot streak going, and it didn’t look like anyone could put it out… except one woman.

The Ice Queen, the best racer in the world, the top dog for five years running- Winter Schnee. A born and bred speed demon and the very definition of stiff competition. The only person to ever leave Yang in the dust.

The odds were stacked against her. Winter had never lost the Isle of Man race, not in five years, and Yang had never so much as visited the course before the past week. Inexperience had cost other racers their lives and she couldn’t manage to beat Winter on a regular race.

If she lost, it wouldn’t be too big a surprise, then… but if she  _won_ … it would be everything she’d ever dreamed of, and Ruby could finally open the shop like she’d always talked about; the prize winnings and all sorts of deals she’d get in the process would more than take care of any expenses. That was why she’d really gotten into the sport at all, despite the perfect fit; it wasn’t about the glory for her, unless it could benefit her sister.

She just had to win this race.

… but she wasn’t sure if she  _wanted_  to anymore.

“Wipe it any more and you’re liable to scratch it.” Yang looked up, watching the woman approach her. “Wouldn’t want your visibility compromised, now would we?”

“Schnee,” she said, standing up and squaring off against the five time champ. She had her hair up in her usual, severe bun, those blue eyes sharper than any blade looking as cold as ice, and the pure white of her racing suit made her look… almost like an angel. “Come to wish me good luck.”

“Of course. I wish all my competitors the best of luck.” For a moment, something slipped, her mask falling just enough for her brows to pinch together. “But I also wanted to assure you that, if you opted to pull out of the race, you have plenty of opportunities ahead of you. This isn’t a make-or-break point in your career.”

“I didn’t take you for the type to intimidate your opponents.” Yang watched the woman move around the little tent, tucked away in the back of the staging area. Most of the racers were out in the lot, getting their bikes warmed up, doing checks. That’s where Ruby was, giving Bumblebee a final once over. “You haven’t tried that with me before, at least.”

Ever since Yang’s first race, she’d crossed paths with Winter at almost every turn. When they weren’t racing, she was there, watching, and Yang had even caught a red eye flight or two to watch the woman in turn. Learning, because they had the potential to be the biggest rivalry in the sport. Even with all the perks that came from being a pedigreed racer, Winter always raced with such a… mechanical style, like watching a video game. Yang had a knack for it, a feeling, and she trusted her gut more than anything.

“I’m not trying to intimidate you.” Those blue eyes fell on her and the mask slipped a little more. “This is the most dangerous race in Remnant. Every year, we lose at least one racer, and sometimes officials and spectators, too. It’s not something you should be entering lightly.”

“This whole sport is dangerous.” She shifted her weight, the leather in her suit creaking. It was stifling, given the warm Mistrali air, but it could save her life if she took a spill.

Could.

“Yang.” At first, she thought the use of her given name was a slight, a way to get under her skin. Never uttered in front of the press or where others could hear, but on the times when they’d been alone… she never called her ‘Xiao Long’. Always ‘Yang’. She read it as disrespect until she heard the way the woman talked around her sister, perhaps the only member of her family she actually cared about. Names had a different meaning for the whole damn family, it seemed; always polite and proper where others could see. Where they couldn’t? Either disdain or fondness- there was no in between. And there’d never been any disdain in the woman’s tone. “I’m serious. You don’t have to do this.”

“Why do you do it?” She tilted her head, watching the way Winter began running her hands over the tools left out by some technician or another. “Why do you race?”

“You’ve been asking me that for a year,” she replied, glancing at the blonde. “Are you expecting my answer to change?”

“I’m hoping for the truth.” Blue eyes held hers. “Just once.”

They watched each other for a moment.

“Because it’s no risk.” Finally, a different answer than ‘because it’s what I’m meant to do’, though she didn’t like the way the woman’s lips curled into a wry grin. “If I race and win, I get to enjoy a few more weeks as my father’s perfect prodigy. If I lose, then I get to skip that phase and move right to being the disappointment, or the sounding board for whatever Weiss has gotten herself into. And if I crash… then I’ll be free of this nightmare.”

“Winter-”

“I have no intentions of being careless.” She waved a hand dismissively. “I’m not suicidal; I’ve simply accepted my reality. The only way out for me is injury.” Winter glanced towards the tent flap. “Any sane person wouldn’t risk a fifth time on this hellish course. Most win once or twice and retire, but I don’t have that option.”

“So, what? I should quit before I’ve even started?” She raised an arm, gesturing with her helmet towards the lot. “Just pack it in and go home?”

“Run the race if you must. But be careful.” A frown touched her lips. “You do this for the right reasons, Yang. You have what it takes to make it big in this sport. Don’t throw it away chasing a victory you don’t need.”

“If I win this race, I can call it quits.” She turned her helmet around, held it in both hands so she could admire the decal on the back- a yellow dragon wrapped around a long stemmed red rose. “Ruby and I, we’re in this together. I get the winnings and  _one_ licensing deal, and I’m done. I’m one of those who only wants to win once.” She looked up at Winter. “I can’t stop now.”

For a moment, the woman looked furious, but then her expression smoothed out. “You realize I can’t throw the race, correct? You’ll have to beat me  _and_  set a world record to do it. On the most dangerous course in Remnant.”

“I didn’t say it would be  _easy_.” She shook her head. “But I have to do this. Just like you have to. We don’t race for the same reasons, but we both know we can’t just quit. Even when we want to.”

Winter blinked. “ _Do_  you want to?”

Pressing her lips into a thin line, she nodded. “You can’t throw the race. I can’t hold back. We always push each other, to the limits of what our bikes can do. On a straight track or a loop, that’s fine, but here?” Her shoulders fell. “Winter, I’m scared to death that only one of us is walking away from this race.”

“Me too.” Stepping closer, the woman stopped in front of her, raising a hand to lay it light on her cheek, cupping her jaw. Tenderly- in a way most wouldn’t think possible for a white knuckle adrenaline junkie with the temperament of a storm at sea. “But if it comes to that, I’m praying to a God I don’t even believe in that it’s you.” She leaned forward, gently pressing their lips together. A kiss, but hardly that, because neither of them could be sure of anything at this point. But when Winter drew back, she could see something in those blue eyes “Be careful, Yang.”

“You too,” she replied, quietly but with all the strength her voice could muster.

And then a horn sounded, the third signal. Fifteen minutes until the start of the race.

Winter stepped back, then turned, heading out towards the lot. They would need to get lined up and wait.

Yang watched her go and bit down on the words in her heart, looking down at her helmet.

One more race.

* * *

The scenery blurred past her as she laid on the throttle even heavier, trying to not lose momentum on the uphill battle. The last leg of the race and everyone was well behind her, to the point that on the sharper curves, she didn’t even see their headlights coming around the last bend.

Everyone, except for Winter.

A white bike with blue accents, a blur just ahead of her, but she was gaining. This? Winding canyons, up and down hill, this was where she thrived, where she discovered her thirst for faster and faster; it was the arena where she held the advantage. And everyone, Winter included, knew it.

The woman crested the hill and Yang was hardly two seconds behind her, gaining now that she had her weight to speed her along. Four more turns along a cliffside view that would look absolutely gorgeous at sunset, she’d be willing to bet on that, and then the finish line just beyond. Almost there.

The first turn, she took the inside, and they were almost neck-and-neck, with only a guard rail separating her from the towering rocks to her right. The next, Winter had the inside and gained some of her lead back, with only a guardrail between her and a sharp drop into the ocean below. The third turn, and Yang had a chance. If she didn’t lose too much on the next one, she could gun it for the finish line. It would be a dead sprint with only their nerves holding them back, and she could swear she heard the crowd beginning to shout then.

As they went into the last turn, Winter started to pull ahead of her.

And that’s when she saw it- a flash of metal, a spark. A mechanical failure just before the bracket on the back tire slipped.

That was bad news going fifty, but they were pushing a hundred.

Winter lost control.

She tried to force the bike onto its right side- trying to angel it between her and the guard rail- but it went left and she started to roll, letting go of the handlebars. It happened so fast.

Terror gripped her heart at the thought of Winter going over the cliff side; it was at least an eighty foot drop.

She slammed on the brakes but knew she wouldn’t be able to stop quick enough, so she angled her bike towards the side of the road and laid it down, pushing off even as she smacked against the black top. She rolled, each jarring impact feeling like it might’ve broken a bone, but when she came to a rest with the sound of her own bike shredding into pieces ringing in her ears, her gaze focused on the bent guard rail.

“Winter!” She ripped off her helmet, the cracked visor of no use as she tried to run- limped, more like, but faster than shuffling- and called out again. “Winter!”

“Yang!” Stumbling to the bent guard rail, she looked over the side, where the twisted metal jutted out over the jagged rocks below. Somehow, Winter had grabbed hold of the end of the thing with her right hand, but she was left handed by nature and the awkward jut of her arm and collar- both bones were broken, at the very least. Her helmet was scored all to hell, the visor broken and wide blue eyes looking at her through red trickling along her skin. “I can’t- I can’t pull myself up!”

“Just hang on!” She heaved a breath, looking around, but this curve left no room for spectators or medical teams to stand by. “Don’t let go- just don’t let go!”

She could hear a chopper- the airborne sort- nearby, but she didn’t know if they’d come in time, if they even had a rope long enough or if Winter could hold on through the turbulence.

Her eyes fell on the guard rail.

Grabbing the metal with both hands, she began to pull with all her might, ignoring how her muscles screamed. Battered and bruised she may be, and maybe she’d broken a rib herself, but she’d be damned if she’d stand by, helpless, and do nothing.

Winter cried out and she looked, saw she’d moved the guard rail closer to the cliffside but not close enough, and the pain in the woman’s expression.

“Hold on, just hold on!” She gave another heave, and another, shouting with effort.

“Yang!” Winter’s grip was slipping, but she was pouring everything into holding on, everything she had. 

But she’d gotten it close enough, and the blonde hurried to lay down, reaching out for Winter and grabbing hold, cursing the sleek design of their suits and how even grabbing the woman brought a pained cry from her lips. A matching one left her own mouth, now  _certain_  she’d broken at least a rib, the agony distracting for only a moment.

“Can you- can you move your legs?” She was heavier, which helped, but she couldn’t be sure shuffling back would be enough, not if she had to go slow; she could already feel her grip beginning to slip, the muscles of her arms burning.

“Only one- Yang, Yang you have to let me go.” Winter looked at her then, tears in her eyes. “You’ll only get yourself killed at this rate.”

“Not if we work together.” Gritting her teeth, she shifted her weight to her knees. “Find a good foothold and push on three. You ready?”

“Yang-”

“I’m not letting go!” She shouted, looking into the woman’s eyes. “It’s all or nothing. I’m not- I’m not giving up. We don’t do that, Winter.  _We don’t_. Now, are you ready?”

Pushing through the pain, those blue eyes flashed with determination. “Yes.”

“Okay. One. Two. Three!” Yang threw herself up and back, pulling with all her might, until she landed looking up at a helicopter hovering overhead with a bright spotlight shining in her eyes… and a weight on her chest. “Winter?”

“I’m here.” She groaned, rolling onto her back and gasping at a sharp  _crack_  that accompanied it. “Fuck!”

The adrenaline. The stuff that they fed off of, that drove them, it had protected them from the worst of their injuries, but now without the roar of their bikes, it faded quickly.

Yang reached out, blindly, until she found something. A hand, an arm, she honestly couldn’t be sure what, but it was Winter, and she held tight.

And she said the things she wished she’d said before.

“You wanna get dinner some time?”

A broken laugh burst from the woman’s lips. “Yang Xiao Long…” She turned her head, unable to see the woman’s full face but able to see her eyes, unfocused but wide open. “Someone… needs to give you a… crash course on proper time and place… to ask a woman out… on a date.” She raised a single brow as Winter smirked. “What? Too soon?”

She couldn’t help but laugh. Laugh because this  _ridiculous_  woman was just as hard headed, just as stubborn, just as dedicated as her, and she absolutely loved it. “We both have broken ribs; why you gotta make me laugh?”

“Because you look beautiful when you laugh.” Her eyes began to flutter closed. “And I’m a selfish bitch… I want that… to be the last thing I see… you… looking at me… like that…”

“Winter?” She groaned, rolling onto her side, but the woman’s eyes had slid shut. “Winter!”

She could hear the sirens and the roar of bikes. Emergency crews and the other racers- everyone, coming to them.

But the fear didn’t leave.

* * *

Recently discharged from the hospital, Yang sat in front of the cameras and the flashing lights, trying hard not to scowl as reporters shot her question after question. She never liked this part and would be all too glad when it was over.

“My sister is still recovering and she needs her rest,” Ruby said, putting a hand on the blonde’s shoulder to try and keep her calm. “One more question.”

Half the hands went up while the rest were busy taking notes, and the man she nodded at stood up with a slick grin that made her stomach churn.

“Miss Xiao Long, do you regret not finishing the race?” She blinked. “Investigators confirmed yesterday that your bike didn’t appear to suffer a mechanical failure like Miss Schnee’s. It’s safe to say that, had she not crashed, then neither would you. Is there any bitterness lingering at the back of your mind?”

The camera angles were shit. For the whole time she’d been in the hospital, no one really knew what had caused the two racers in the lead to crash on the last turn. They just knew that Yang had helped pull Winter from the guard rail after the fact.

And no one had the balls to straight up ask her, but apparently no issue trying to play up this rivalry between them.

A lot of things came to her mind but she wouldn’t speak them. She wouldn’t tell anyone that Winter had asked her not to race, that she’d known beforehand that this was a possibility. That they’d both agreed they pushed each other too much for this race to be safe for either of them. Vultures like these, they’d twist those words all manner of ways, and she wouldn’t stand for it.

So instead, she leaned forward and looked him in the eye.

“Have a little fuckin’ humanity, you piss poor chucklefuck,” she said, flipping him the bird for good measure. “No race is worth someone’s life. Only thing I regret is not being able to punch that smile off your face.” She pushed herself up, accepting the crutch her sister handed her and doing her best not to wince. “A good woman is laying up in the hospital, just barely surviving a terrible crash. I’m just bitter that her pain is your entertainment.”

Reporters called after her, more cameras flashed, and she’d probably just shot any chance of her getting back on the circuit in the foot.

She didn’t care. She’d find some other way to get the money and Ruby had made it clear that it was sincerely the  _last_  thing on her mind. They’d pick up the pieces later. 

Right now? Well, there was somewhere she had to be.

“Rubes-”

“I’m taking you back to the hospital,” her sister said, grinning. “I think you should be the one to tell her that you called that dude a ‘piss poor chucklefuck’, just so when they censor it later, she knows what you  _really_  thought.”

A smile curled her lips. “Can we stop by somewhere on the way? I… kinda promised her dinner.”

“The staff probably won’t let you bring it in.”

“I’ll fight ‘em.”

“I’m sure you will.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: The Isle of Man Tourist Trophy is the most deadly race in the world. While I took some liberties with the geography and time of the race (usually ran during the day time, pretty sure), it is a very dangerous competition, with over 240 people dead, including racers, officials, and spectators since it started in the early 1900′s (1904, I think?). 
> 
> Y’all be safe out there.


	26. Idol Worship

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey. This is now in the same universe as the Partner Swap Mission- otherwise known as the “Everyone Has Basic Goddamn Anti Virus Protection” AU. Starts in the 3rd year at Beacon, Pyrrha’s still alive, Salem’s still lurking in the wings, and moves into the aftermath of Salem pulling her bullshit. This is based on a suggestion by @ravedragon!

Yang shivered, rubbing her hands together to generate a little heat in the pre-dawn morning. Standing outside of the collector’s shop this early meant sacrificing sleep and comfort, of course, but there was no way she’d be missing this! Ever since she was eight years old, she’d collected the little figurines molded after her favorite Hunters- Huntsmen and Huntresses who rose above their peers to keep people safe. Her first one was Summer’s, complete with white cape, and she’d spent the better part of her first year at Beacon tracking down another for Ruby. That’s how she found this little shop, tucked away in a corner down by the docks, which specialized in collectibles like this. They also had Hunter cards and some of the other materials made, small gestures to immortalize those who committed the ultimate sacrifice for the sake of the innocent. 

It still surprised Yang that she was just a year shy of joining their ranks, that in time she might have a figurine made of herself. 

_ding ding_

“I thought you might be the first one out here,” the store’s owner said with a little grin. “Couldn’t wait to get your hands on her, huh?" 

"Come on, Tukson.” She smiled. “Do you know how often Atlas releases a figure? And one from their Specialist line?”

“It does seem like they keep their standards mighty high.” The Faunus chuckled, letting her into the shop. On one side, he had nothing but books- that was his mainstay trade, frankly- but on the other, he had the collectibles stacked neatly on shelves. “This is, what, the third they’ve released since the Great War?" 

"Yep. And the second was her mother.” Rubbing at her arms and focusing her aura, she let just enough of the fire that constantly raged through her soul escape to warm her up. Doing it outside usually drew too much attention, since most people didn’t walk around steaming, and she’d prefer to keep a low profile for this particular run. “Does it come with the booklet?" 

"Yeah. Not as thick as the others, though, but par for the course on an Atlas release.” He went behind the counter and reached down, searching for one of the boxes.

Yang hardly noticed, her eyes drawn to the display case that held the newest figurines, the one she sought now standing proudly at the center. Both blades in hand, a white Beowolf poised and ready to strike with her, the familial sigil of her semblance providing the base- Specialist Winter Schnee, captured in a perfect moment of lethal intent, the expression on her face hard, razor sharp, focused. Sure, she’d met the woman in person by now- being on the same team as Weiss, her younger sister, provided a bit of overlap- and after seeing her in combat once, Yang was nothing short of smitten. Cold fire, she combined destruction and grace so eloquently- she’d raved about it for  _days_ to Blake after that one special joint class with the Atlesian military. 

Of course, she tried to keep her thoughts to herself around Weiss, knowing how much she looked up to her big sister and sometimes felt like she resided within the woman’s shadow. That wasn’t the case, of course- Weiss had grown into a Huntress in her own right, and their team remained at the top of their class in terms of combat prowess- but Yang understood what it could be like living under that sort of burden. Hence why she’d arrived at the shop at such an ungodly hour rather than waiting despite having pre-ordered her figurine; this way, she could sneak it back into the room and to her collection without Weiss ever being the wiser. 

“Ah, here we go.” Tukson stood up, setting the box on the counter. “Wanted to make sure I grabbed you one of the good ones." 

"What do you mean ‘good ones’; they’re all amazing!” She took one more look at the impressive level of details before turning back towards the counter. 

“Yeah, but they aren’t all  _signed_.” He chuckled, turning the box around to display a signature penned in pale blue ink, with a distinct flourish that was both reminiscent of her sister’s and yet distinct from it. “Limited Edition. Figured you’d want this version. That’ll be a hundred lien.”

Yang slapped down the money without a second thought, picking up the box and smiling so wide her cheeks began to burn. “This is  _perfect_! Thanks, Tukson!" 

"No problem, Yang.” He laughed, setting her money in the register. “Honestly, I’m looking forward to the day you come here to buy your own figurine. I know it’s bound to happen." 

"Hey, here’s hoping!” Her fingers itched to pop open the box but she resisted by the  _barest_  of margins. “But I’m pretty sure they’ll release Pyrrha’s first. She’s starting to lose the fight to keep them from being distributed." 

"Guess that’s what happens when you win enough championships.” He scratched at his jaw and tilted his head. “Might be cool to have a 'before and after’ with her, huh? Release another figure in ten years when she’s not just a champion but a slayer of Grimm, too?" 

"Hey, 'the Grimmslayer’ is gonna be on  _my_  figure, remember?” She chuckled, then shrugged. “Or Ruby’s, ya know, since that was on Summer’s, too." 

"Speaking of which, if they  _do_  decide to re-release some of the figurines, I’m sure hers will be on the list.” He waved a hand. “I’ll be sure to hold onto two for you, no pre-order required. You just focus on finishing up school, alright?" 

"Got it.” She checked the time, realizing she had about an hour to get back to the school before her team began to wake up. “Yikes, I gotta go. Take care, Tukson!" 

"You too, Yang!” She glanced down, looking through the clear plastic window on the front of the box, still a little amazed that she really had her own  _signed_  copy of it. Although it would never truly measure up to the woman herself, it made her heart lighter to have this little piece of Winter. 

She just had to be sure Weiss didn’t take it the wrong way. 

* * *

Winter sighed, running a hand over her face and sitting back in her chair, a headache pounding at her temples nearly too distracting. The first week after her promotion had lulled her into a little bit of complacency, leaving her unprepared for the oncoming deluge of paperwork and considerations to make, coordinating forces along Atlas’ eastern border as well as the new peacekeeping missions with the other kingdoms. Some part of her understood that she’d achieved her rank almost solely to deal with these unique challenges but that didn’t make the reality of nigh overwhelming data aggregation any easier. Winter had served for far too long to be surprised by the tedious portions of bureaucracy but had yet to truly accept it. 

A glance at the clock proved she’d stayed far past close-of-business, another long night when everyone else had left, content to return to their own stacks of paperwork the following day. If she did the same, she’d never catch up, though, but she’d started to sincerely doubt she had the strength to continue. She reached out for a moment, prepared to close the military issued laptop and just try to get some shut eye, when she noticed the little figurine standing off to the side. 

 Up until she’d been asked to sign the release for her own figurine to be distributed, Winter didn’t really pay much mind to the collectibles that glorified the greatest Hunters all over Remnant. She’d known her mother had one- the second, if she recalled correctly, to be designated with the honor by Atlas, with herself being the third- but they never mentioned its existence within the Schnee Manor. Father absolutely forbid its acknowledgement and when she was younger, she thought it had something to do with being humble. Only time had taught her that it had more to do with his fragile pride and even frailer ego.As such, she had mixed feelings about having one of her own. That it existed didn’t bother her- she’d earned that distinction, of course- but she couldn’t be bothered to own one herself. It wasn’t until she’d unintentionally won one in a card game- a very rare one, as she’d come to find out, one of Mistral’s most celebrated Huntsmen- that she became interested in the hobby. 

And then, a bare five months ago, four figurines were released at the same time, and these ones, she did have a vested interest in acquiring for herself. One was of her sister, and Winter couldn’t be prouder of Weiss for that accomplishment. The other three released with it were those of her teammates: Ruby, the sweet yet deadly tactician who’d masterminded the final push against the devious Salem; Blake, the dedicated freedom fighter and cause champion, and Weiss’ girlfriend by the time the smoke cleared; and Yang, the strong and charismatic brawler who’d helped rally the spirits of those present for that last, desperate attack against total darkness. 

Naturally, she couldn’t  _not_  get one of her own sister; Weiss’ figurine accented both her fighting style and her stalwart nature, a dancer with a blade that could cut through even the strongest defense. Blake’s and Ruby’s, likewise, reflected their strengths in battle and their attitudes, with the former sporting a soft smile and the latter wearing an expression of grim determination. However, Yang’s had always seemed… lacking, in that respect, as if only a portion of her too-big-to-be-contained personality was captured.She tried to tell herself that’s why she’d bought more than one of Yang’s. One remained with the others in her collection, on display and safe. Another, however, sat there on her desk, a reminder to herself: a beacon of strength, hope, and she could hardly look at it without thinking of what it so sorely lacked. 

The figurine was poised in mid attack, right fist cocked back, hair flying like a moving flame, balanced on the tips of her toes in mid-lunge, mouth open as a defiant cry no doubt left her lips. That part reminded her to stay strong, even during the toughest of moments. But what it couldn’t convey was the brightness of the woman’s smile. Her jokes, her puns, her devotion and care, the little things that made Yang such a beautiful person, inside and out. 

Winter reached out and picked up the figurine instead, a sad little frown tugging at her lips. No doubt, if the woman walked through the door right then, she’d gently poke and prod until the General relented and got some rest, because Yang worried more after the health of those around her than their productivity. She would reassure Winter, no matter what she said, that it could wait until tomorrow. 

Setting the figurine down, she sat forward and got back to work. Although the real Yang wasn’t there, she didn’t put it past General Ironwood to call on her sister if he became concerned for Winter’s health, and she prided her work ethic too greatly to be seen slipping so early in her new position. She wouldn’t want to cause Yang- or Weiss- to worry by hearing through the grapevine that she’d started falling behind.

Now with her second wind and the determination to push aside the distraction of her headache, Winter returned to her task with renewed vigor, blazing through the remaining paperwork. Once she’d gotten a tiny bit ahead, her eyes flicked back over to the figurine before she closed her laptop, acknowledging that she would need rest more than trying to get ahead today, especially knowing that things could change tomorrow. Best to do it only once than redo it twice. 

“Thank you, Yang, for the pep talk,” she said, reaching over to pick up the figurine. “I know I can always count on you to set me straight." A chuckle left her lips at the poor joke- she didn’t have the same way with words that Yang did- and set it down again, getting to her feet. "Good night, Yang. Sleep well." 

She bid the figurine farewell every time she left her office. Cotta thought it a bit odd but promised not to mention it after the first time was met with a heated glare. Perhaps it was foolish to think that the sentiment, if not the words, reached the woman whom the figurine was modeled after, but it was the only bit of foolishness she allowed herself. 

That seemed like more than a fair enough trade. 

* * *

Yang reached up, stretching her arms and yawning before interlacing her fingers and putting them behind her head. "So… this place seems nice." 

"We’re at Atlas Military Headquarters, Yang, this is far beyond  _nice_.” Weiss snapped out, leading the way down the hall. Despite being two years graduated- and well on their way to being four of the most famous Hunters in Remnant history- the four had opted to remain friends and comrades, especially after defeating the terrible monstrosity that was Salem. Some things just bonded people together and that entire fiasco had cemented each of them in the others’ lives, which meant accompanying Weiss to visit her sister and congratulate her on her promotion to General. “Could you  _please_  try to conduct yourself with some measure of decorum?" 

"Yeah, but no promises,” she replied with a grin. “People around here could stand to be a little less uptight, ya know." 

"Yang,  _please_ , just try not to start a fight, okay?” Ruby lightly bumped her shoulder. 

“Oh, fine.” Playfully pouting, she followed the others down the hall to two big oak doors that were propped open, a few desks arrayed around the entrance, each adjacent to a closed door bearing a name placard. 

Someone looked up and spotted them, sitting a bit straighter. “Oh, Miss Schnee, here to visit your sister?" 

"Yes.” Weiss nodded with a polite smile. “Would you let he know we’re here?" 

"Of course,” they replied, briefly glancing at the others. “I believe she was under the impression you were coming alone. No matter.” They got up and opened one of the doors, stepping aside. “Please, right this way.”

As the four shuffled in, Yang couldn’t help but let out a low whistle. Overall, it wasn’t a bit space or even finely decorated- rather spartan, actually- but what little did adorn the walls spoke to a brief but powerful career. That, and a giant glass cabinet set against the wall housed more decorations and awards than she’d ever seen, plus the middle section being entirely devoted… to… no way. 

“Welcome, Weiss,” Winter said, still pouring over a paper on her desk. “I do apologize; I’m in the middle of-" 

"You have the limited edition special release of Headmaster Goodwitch?” Drawn to the cabinet, Yang knelt down to get a better look at it. Despite how rare a collector’s piece it was, its position within the collection made it clear that Winter didn’t think nearly as much of it as she did the centerpiece, which happened to be the four of them, with Weiss’ and Blake’s figurines coming with their own lighting halos. “Oh, wow, you even have  _our_  special editions! I couldn’t even get my hands on these!" 

"Yang, this isn’t the time to drown us all in the details of your hobby-" 

"Oh, come now, Weiss.” Winter cut her sister off, though her voice seemed softer than the harsh demeanor she’d had when they were younger. “I’m rather proud of my collection.” The General didn’t have many- less than two dozen- but all of them were either rare, special edition, or of Team RWBY, plus the initial release of Pyrrha’s. 

“Yeah, Weiss, this is amazing! Some of these, I’ve never even seen in person!” Lilac eyes roved over every figurine in the collection for a moment before a frown tugged at her lips. “But… Winter, don’t you have one of yours?”

“Hmmm? Oh, no.” Standing up from her desk, she joined the members of Team RWBY by the cabinet and sighed. “Unfortunately, I wasn’t very keen on collecting them until after my initial run had sold out. Most of these I’ve won off other officers and soldiers in competitions." 

"That’s a shame.” Yang’s brows drew together. “I have an extra one, if you want." 

"Wait.” Weiss crossed her arms over her chest, leveling a piercing stare at the blonde. “Why do  _you_  have an extra one? And why are you giving it up so easily? You quite nearly broke Jaune’s arm when he touched your Pyrrha figure without asking." 

"Okay, that’s just etiquette, I apologized six times, and I  _did_  get him one of his own!" 

"Nice try; you dodged the first two questions. And you still made Jaune pay you back for the one you got him." 

Yang swallowed, offering a nervous smile as she tried to think of a good way to phrase her response while silently pleading for Blake’s help. "Oh, well, I just… happened to pick it up one time and, ya know, it’d be a shame if she didn’t have her own figurine, right? I mean, I got one for each of you and you didn’t complain then!" 

Blake, apparently, had opted to go to her girlfriend’s defense rather than her partner’s. "You still made us pay you back, though." 

"Halfsies!" 

"Well, if compensation is a concern, I’m sure I can pay Yang back if she were to part with the figurine.” Winter smoothly cut in, a small smile on her lips. “It would be nice, I suppose, to have one of my own." 

"Would you put it in the cabinet?” Ruby tilted her head to the side. Everyone else looked at her then, ranging from confused to curious. 

“Where else  _would_  she put it, Ruby?” Weiss raised a brow. 

“On the desk, so the other one doesn’t get lonely." 

As one, three of them turned to look at the aforementioned desk while Winter stiffened, Blake suppressing a chuckle while Weiss’s shoulders slumped a bit. Yang could only stand there, mouth dropped open in shock and awe.

"Dearest sister of mine.” Slowly, Weiss turned to look at Winter. “Why is there a Yang figurine on your desk?" 

And, without missing a beat, she replied: "Classified." 

Snapping herself out of it, a little smirk began to lift the corner of Yang’s mouth. "Hey, Winter? I changed my mind.” She looked over at the woman. “I’ll give you your figurine in exchange for a date." 

"I believe that’s quite amenable." 

Everyone pointedly ignored the way Ruby beamed or the twenty lien card Weiss handed to her. 

* * *

The rare Omakes from me:

Cotta: "General, General Ironwood would like to speak with you.”   
Winter, hunched over her desk: “Cotta, I am working on highly classified materials, so if you saw anything-”   
Cotta: “No, Ma'am, I didn’t see you playing with your dolls again.”   
Winter: “They are  _figurines_ , Cotta,  _we’ve been over this_." 

A few years down the line, Ironwood and the other officers decide to step in because Winter and Yang are still dating and should obviously stop pretending it’s not as serious as it is, and they pay for special editions of tiny figurines- mock ups of what Yang and Winter’s kids could look like. Then, they have to call Yang and Weiss to come to Atlas HQ because Winter’s refusing to leave her desk.   
Yang: "Come on, let’s get you home.”   
Winter: “I can’t just  _leave_  them here! They’re our children!”   
Yang: “One, they’re  _just_  figures, and two-” *looks down at them* “-oh dust they’re  _adorable_.”   
Winter: “What should we name them?”   
Yang: “I love you, Snowdrift, but they really are just figurines.”   
Winter: *staring*   
Yang: “… I’m kinda partial to Wisteria?" 

Later, confronting Ironwood  
Yang: "Okay, as much as I love a good prank,  _this_  has clearly crossed a line.”   
Ironwood: “Come now, Xiao Long, you’re overreacting-”   
Yang: “Quick question, genius: what’s gonna happen when we  _do_  have kids and they  _don’t_ look like the figurines?”   
Ironwood: “I… hmmm…”   
Yang: “Yeah. Go ahead. 'Hmmm’ over there while you ponder that.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also- the title is a bloody joke, in case anyone was confused; I just couldn't resist the pun.


	27. Did You Know?

-Today, 0317-  
(214) 13-170-9: Did you know that “hamburger” is two words combined, but it’s not “ham” and “burger”, but “hamburg” and “er”? No idea what “er” means, though. Or “Hamburg” really. English is weird.  
You: Who are you and how did you get this number?  
(214) 13-170-9: Shit, is this not Blake?  
You: No. I am not Blake.  
(214) 13-170-9: Ah fuck, sorry, must’ve fat fingered the number!  
You: It’s four in the morning here.  
(214) 13-170-9: Oh, cool, same timezone. Still, sorry about that.  
You: It’s fine.  
You: And, for the record, -er is an Atlesian suffix that roughly means “from” and Hamburg is a city in Atlas. “Hamburger” means, quite literally, “from Hamburg”.  
You: I grew up not too far from there.  
(214) 13-170-9: Oh, that’s so cool! My name’s Yang!  
You: Noted. Now, may I return to slumber or do you have any other useless trivia to impart upon me?  
(214) 13-170-9: Right, sorry! Again!  
(214) 13-170-9: Night! Sweet dreams!

-Today, 1034-  
You: Now that it’s a somewhat respectable hour, I’d like to apologize for being curt last night.   
(214) 13-170-9: Hey, I get it! I’d be a little cranky if someone woke me up, too.  
(214) 13-170-9: Really, no harm, no foul.  
(214) 13-170-9: But if you’re ever in need of useless trivia, I’m here!  
You: That was… harsh of me.  
(214) 13-170-9: I mean, you’re not exactly wrong. Most of this stuff isn’t really that useful. But it can be food for thought or even a little funny! Like, did you know the electric chair was invented by a dentist? Sounds weirdly appropriate, doesn’t it?  
(214) 13-170-9: Guess he got his patients confused with chickens; THOSE are the ones where you pull out all the white things and THEN fry ‘em.  
You: That was dark.  
You: I’ll admit it made me laugh out loud, but still dark.  
(214) 13-170-9: Okay, look, I work with what material’s available to me, and that was the first one that popped into my head.  
(214) 13-170-9: Also, did you really type out ‘laugh out loud’? lol, really?  
You: What do you have against properly spelling out words?  
(214) 13-170-9: Okay, you know what, in hindsight, you’re right. It just caught me off guard. Most people use abbreviations.  
(214) 13-170-9: Or emojis.  
You: I honestly hate the sight of that stupid word.  
You: Also, I spend all day trapped in an alphabet soup hell. I don’t need more abbreviations, thank you.  
(214) 13-170-9: But they make things so much quicker! btw, ofc I could spell it all out, but rn I’m using one hand, other’s occupied.  
(214) 13-170-9: I swear that’s not as dirty as it sounds.  
You: At EOD, I meet with my POC for a SITREP, then CM to the DFAC.  
(214) 13-170-9: I respectfully withdraw my argument, have a good day.

-Today, 1425-  
(214) 13-170-9: Um. I might be overstepping here and maybe you’re busy but either way I hope I didn’t upset you or insult you earlier.  
You: You said “have a good day”; I assumed that was the end of the conversation.  
(214) 13-170-9: Do you even meme?!  
You: I realize I implied and now am outright stating that English isn’t my primary language but you don’t have to make up words.  
(214) 13-170-9: Oml have you never seen a meme before? Hold on.  
(214) 13-170-9: [MyHairIsABird.jpeg][open][save]  
You: What.The. Fuck.  
(214) 13-170-9: You’ve never seen that before?  
You: I have and am now wondering why I allowed myself to be teleported back a decade.  
You: At least. It’s probably closer to two at this point.  
(214) 13-170-9: That’s a meme. It’s short for mimetic mutation I think? Where a joke gets so far removed from the source that it loses all connection but it’s still somehow funny?  
You: No.  
(214) 13-170-9: Look, I’ve never had to explain a meme before!  
You: I’m not saying “no” to your explanation; I’m saying “no” to that meme, as you call it.  
(214) 13-170-9: That’s what it’s called!  
You: Of course it is.  
(214) 13-170-9: Okay, fine, how about this one?  
(214) 13-170-9: [loss.jpeg][open][save]  
You: Now you’re tormenting me.  
You: Wait. I recognize this format.  
You: This is the stupid joke the idiots I call my subordinates are giggling about like school children?  
You: It’s not even a joke. This is a serious matter.  
(214) 13-170-9: I mean, I agree, I’m not sure how it became a joke but it did?  
(214) 13-170-9: I swear I’m not as dark as I’ve been sounding.  
(214) 13-170-9: Like, this whole conversation is kinda atypical for me, I swear.  
You: You’re putting in a lot of effort to convince a stranger that you’re not exactly as you’ve been acting.  
(214) 13-170-9: Well, you got me there. Sorry.

-Today, 1832-  
You: You’ve gone quiet. I suppose both of your hands were required?  
(214) 13-170-9: I just figured you probably had a point and I should just stop digging a bigger hole for myself.  
You: You don’t have any more trivia?  
(214) 13-170-9: Did you know a shark’s top speed is 96 km/h?  
You: Which species?  
(214) 13-170-9: Uh, Mako shark, I think.  
You: You are correct. I have a certain affinity for sharks.   
You: They aren’t as terrible as people make them out to be, you know.  
Yang: Actually, more people die from being struck on the head with a coconut than from shark attacks every year. They’re mostly fine if you leave them alone. Unprovoked attacks aren’t as common as people think, I mean. It’s mostly just one species responsible for them, too, but people lump all sharks together.  
You: They do. Sharks are dangerous, yes, but most creatures are. Sharks just get a bad reputation for essentially no reason.  
Yang: Actually, the movie Jaws spawned a lot of the social stigma around sharks.  
Yang: Do you have a favorite shark?  
You: The catshark. There’s several species all over Remnant; they’re deep sea creatures, living below what most people fish at, but they’re occasionally spotted by research vessels. They have beautiful skins with wonderful patterns but very little is known about them, and each subspecies is unique in its own way.  
You: They’re truly fascinating creatures.  
Yang: They sound really cool!  
You: I have a question for you.  
Yang: Shoot.  
You: You’ve given me your name yet you haven’t ask me mine. Why?  
Yang: Well, let’s start from the top.  
Yang: I messaged you in the middle of the night on accident, which you weren’t very happy about. Then when you apologized, I made a bad joke and you took it literally. THEN, I apologized again, and we talked about memes, and that entire discussion didn’t go anywhere good, I think we’re on the same page on that one.  
Yang: So, from my perspective, I really don’t have any right to ask your name. I gave you mine so you’d know who to specifically curse if you’re religiously inclined.  
Yang: Or, like, you just want the satisfaction of specifically cursing me, because like, mood.  
You: How thoughtful.  
You: It’s Winter.  
Yang: I’m pretty sure it’s spring?  
You: You boob. My name is Winter.  
Yang: OH  
Yang: IT’S A GOOD NAME  
You: … really?  
Yang: Absolutely! It’s a beautiful name!  
You: That wasn’t me looking for reassurance; that was me being… surprised by your response.  
Yang: It makes me think of Atlas, kinda, cause it’s so cold up there.  
Yang: Oh.  
Yang: I am just a series of “open mouth, insert foot” examples today.  
You: Are you on something? Alcohol? Weed? Nicotine?  
Yang: NO!  
You: Admittedly, that last one wouldn’t lead to such a lapse in judgement as you’ve currently displayed.  
You: Are you lying to me?  
Yang: FUCKING NO, I’M NOT ON ANYTHING!  
Yang: I just haven’t been sleeping well recently and my head’s a little fuzzy. That’s all.  
You: That would explain the middle-of-the-night trivia session.  
Yang: I said I was sorry about that.  
You: I believe you but I also believe that a good night’s rest in fundamentally important.  
You: Tonight, you’re going to sleep at a reasonable hour.  
Yang: You can’t just command me to go to sleep!  
You: I just did.  
Yang: Wait a minute, the acronyms, the orders, “subordinates”- you’re military, aren’t you?  
You: Yes.  
Yang: That’s awesome! I’m just a mechanic. I like working on engines.  
You: Riveting, truly, but those are topics for tomorrow. Tonight, you sleep.  
Yang: lmao, nice pun!  
You: I didn’t make a pun.  
Yang: I said I’m a mechanic, you said “riveting”, how was that not a pun?  
You: You’re deflecting.  
Yang: My shields are up.  
You: I’m not engaging in a pun war when you should be going to bed.  
Yang: I’m not going to bed, so I guess we’re at a stalemate.  
You: Fine. Here’s the deal. Make me a promise.  
Yang: Wow, we’re hardly on first name basis and now we’re making promises? You move fast.  
You: Promise me you’ll text me whatever piece of trivia comes to mind whenever you’re having trouble sleeping.  
Yang: I don’t get it. I’d be waking you up at all hours.  
You: Exactly. You seem like the sort of person to care very much about others so I doubt you’d compromise my sleep intentionally. Now that you have a clear purpose of going to sleep to help someone else sleep, you’ll have an easier time accomplishing the task.  
Yang: What are you, some kinda quack psychologist?  
Yang: You’re playing dirty.  
You: I’m military. What did you honestly expect?  
Yang: Touche.  
Yang: Fine. I’ll try to sleep tonight. But just know! I have a whole bunch of factoids for ya! Get ready cause neither of us is sleeping tonight!  
You: Usually, I’d insist someone buy me dinner first.  
Yang: Now you’re flirting.  
You: I’m merely stating fact.  
You: How about one more “factoid” before bed?  
Yang: Did you know a shark’s teeth are literally hard as steel?  
You: Playing to my interests, I see.  
Yang: I have my moments of brilliance.  
You: Indeed you do. Now, good night, Yang. Get some sleep.  
Yang: Good night Winter. Sweet dreams.  
You: And to you the same.

* * *

-Today, 0947-  
Yang: I hate you.  
You: Care to elaborate?  
Yang: Somehow, it worked, and I just woke up from the sleep of the dead. My body feels like mush sloshing around a hollow lead cylinder.  
You: What you’re feeling is the side effects of your body getting both too little and too much rest at the same time. If you establish a better sleep schedule, you’ll avoid this feeling in the future.  
Yang: Thank you, Doctor Winter. Do I get a lollipop?  
You: Continue being this cheeky; I assure you it’s doing nothing but improving my perception of you.  
Yang: Harsh.  
You: That was teasing.  
Yang: Oh. You really should add, like, an lol or something when you’re joking. I’m not awake enough to find context clues.  
You: Aside from the lethargy, how are you feeling?  
Yang: Hungry. I finally dragged myself out of bed to cook breakfast and it turns out my sister already made me some. I’ve taught her well.  
You: Older or younger?  
Yang: I’m older by two years. Sometimes, it feels longer than that, though; I practically raised her.  
You: Interesting. I’m glad she made some food for you.  
Yang: Yeah. Now that I think about it, probably worried her pretty bad the last few weeks.  
You: Is that how long you’ve been having trouble sleeping?”  
Yang: About that.  
Yang: These pancakes taste fucking delicious btw.  
Yang: Did you know that, for most people, their right lung takes in more air than their left?  
You: We need to have a talk about priorities because I highly doubt you’ve inhaled your food that quickly.  
Yang: Sorry, my sis had to leave, so it’s a quiet breakfast over here.  
You: I don’t see that as something that needs to be corrected.  
You: However, I find myself wondering if you know the reason behind the lung trivia.  
Yang: I do! It’s because, for most people, your heart is just to the left of the center of your chest. So, since the heart takes up space, there’s only two sacs in your left lung, as opposed to three in your right.  
Yang: *sacks? Idek  
You: Idek?  
Yang: I Don’t Even Know- not sure what the difference between “sacs” and “sacks” is.  
You: This is why acronyms and abbreviations are more trouble than they’re worth.  
Yang: Okay, so basically, a sac is biological and a sack is manufactured. Like, sacs are things naturally occurring that fill with air or liquid, either in the body or outside it. Sacks are made for carrying things like groceries.  
Yang: Meanwhile, “sack” as a verb means either getting hit or getting laid off. Or maybe both, I guess, depending on your job.  
You: You went and looked it up?  
Yang: What, you think I was born with all these random things preprogrammed?  
Yang: I have a really good retention rate and I’m curious a lot.  
Yang: Google is my friend.  
You: Obviously. I suppose the appropriate follow-up question would be: you kept highlighting “most people”. Why?  
Yang: Well, there are a lot of medical reasons that makes it not applicable to everyone. Dextrocardia, for instance, in its mildest form causes the heart to face the opposite way, so the lungs usually fill differently because of that. More severe cases mean that more visceral organs are mirrored, too.  
You: Okay, so, language, sharks, the electric chair, and now medical trivia. The breadth of your subjects of interest is impressive.  
Yang: Thanks!  
Yang: Did you know that the cracking sound made by a whip is caused by the tip breaking the sound barrier?  
Yang: I’m pretty sure this counts as physics.  
You: I’ll add physics to the list.  
You: Now finish your breakfast and do something small. Take a nap in a few hours or whenever you feel tired.  
Yang: Do you have any siblings?  
Yang: You don’t have to answer right away!  
Yang: Or at all.  
Yang: Guess you’re busy? Eating breakfast maybe?

-Today, 1036-  
You: Actually, I was in formation. It’s usually at 0930 but there were… complications this morning, so they pushed it back half an hour.  
Yang: Huh. For some reason, I always thought the military would be, like, SUPER punctual.  
You: And I have a younger sister and a younger brother, in that order.  
You: I’m going to tell you a secret: the military is always late. We just never admit it.  
Yang: So, you’re like a bunch of cats?  
You: Given what constitutes my workday, yes, I would say that’s accurate. “Herding cats” is the most accurate description of my job title.  
Yang: lmao, that’s wild. Your siblings here in Vale too? Or back home in Atlas?  
You: My sister is here; she moved here to study at Beacon and then decided to stay. I suspect her girlfriend might factor into that decision but she’s remaining tight lipped about it. My brother is at home, in Atlas.  
You: Now explain “lmao”.  
Yang: Laughing My As Off  
Yang: You really don’t know any chat abbreviations?  
You: Has it occurred to you that abbreviations is a very long word to describe the shortening of words and is, in itself, evidence that it’s all very silly?  
Yang: I know this is going to sound very grade school but you’re kinda cute when you’re annoyed.  
You: You’re right; that does sound very grade school.  
You: And you only say that because you can’t see me.  
Yang: Oh, so you don’t go all broody, kinda constipated, pursed lips when you’re annoyed by something?  
You: I understand those words individually but, combined, I’m lost. What would that even look like?  
Yang: Here.  
Yang: [photo][open][save]  
You: First, I want to assure you that you’re a very beautiful individual.  
You: Next, you look absolutely ridiculous.  
Yang: Hey, that’s how I think you look when you’re annoyed!  
You: I do not.  
Yang: Okay, I’ll take your word for it!  
You: [photo][open][save]  
Yang: Oh  
Yang: Wow  
You: That is what I look like when annoyed.  
You: And, not to wound your ego, but that annoyance isn’t inspired by you. A subordinate just asked me for fucking grid squares.  
You: At this point, one would think that joke’s too tired to work, but one would be wrong.  
Yang: Did you know that the winter of 392 was so cold, all of Beacon Falls froze over?  
You: Back to trivia?  
Yang: It’s my default response when higher brain function shuts down.  
You: I’ll admit, this is the first time in a long while I’ve felt flattery to be entirely sincere.  
Yang: This isn’t flattery; this is cold, hard facts.  
You: I see.  
Yang: Hey, I, uh, just realized the time, I gotta get to work.  
Yang: See if I still have a job, at any rate.  
You: I understand. Good luck.  
Yang: Thanks! Hope your work day gets better!

-Today, 1236-  
You: I assume the radio silence to be a good sign.

-Today, 1428-  
Yang: Yeah! Turns out, the shop kept a spot for me. My boss is being really understanding.  
Yang: Kinda… babying me, too, but… I’m getting used to it.  
Yang: At least he fired the idiot that started this whole mess.  
You: Am I permitted to inquire as to what happened?  
Yang: I don’t wanna go into details.  
You: That’s understandable.  
You: I’m glad they kept a spot for you. Are you going to return to work full time or ease into it?  
Yang: Give me a minute.  
You: Very well.

-Today, 1513-  
Yang: A few months ago, there was an accident at the shop. We do body work too and this guy tried using a machine he had no business using. Freaked out, caused a scene, I tried going over to help, ended up with my right arm caught in the damn thing. Mangled it pretty bad. So bad the docs had to take it. I got fitted for a prosthetic and I’m just trying to find normal again.  
Yang: I know I said I didn’t wanna go into the details but I’m actually shit at lying.  
Yang: Except in, like, weirdly specific circumstances.  
You: Thank you.  
Yang: Ok. Gotta admit. Not the response I expected.  
You: It must be very difficult to discuss and think about the accident. You didn’t have to go into it, yet you did, and I thank you for trusting me with that.  
You: That being said, is this a contributing factor to your insomnia?  
Yang: It’s not insomnia. I’m just not sleeping well.  
Yang: But yeah, idk, maybe it’s related. I liked sleeping on my right side and I can’t anymore. Anchor digs into my ribs.  
You: Establishing a new routine can be tricky at first. Everything is just a painful reminder of the incident.  
Yang: Sounds like you have experience with this.  
You: A bit. A superior of mine whom I respect greatly lost most of his body a few years back. He speaks very frankly about the challenges he faced when returning to the line.  
Yang: Wait, you mean General Ironwood?  
You: You know him?  
Yang: Who in Remnant doesn’t? He’s basically a celebrity. I mean, not just for the prosthetic body thing; he’s also the youngest commanding General of the Atlesian military.  
Yang: Which… tbh, is kinda weird. Isn’t he pushing fifty?  
You: Age takes on a whole new concept in the military.  
Yang: I’d say.  
Yang: They talked about him when I started my physical therapy. Supposed to inspire me, I guess.  
You: For what it’s worth, he actually dislikes when people do that. He says that each individual case is a war all unto itself. Comparisons are detrimental to the individual’s recovery.  
Yang: I like him better already. I’ve been over here trying to just “suck it up” I mean, not like I lost anything more than an arm, what do I have to complain about?  
You: Hold that thought.  
Yang: Okay?

-Today, 1558-  
You: Miss Yang? This is General Ironwood.  
Yang: Look, I’m all for practical jokes, but this isn’t a good one.  
You: [photo][open][save]  
Yang: This is not a joke.  
You: No, it is not.   
You: Miss Yang, I’d like to extend my deepest, sincerest sympathies to you for your loss. Having your life upended in such a way can be extremely disorienting. However, the measure of your strength does not come from what you can or can’t do in comparison to before. It comes from your desire to continue fighting, to find a new balance to your life. Asymmetry is a measure of beauty, strength, and courage in its own right.  
Yang: Thank you, sir.  
Yang: *Sir.  
You: I’d like to extend an invitation to a support group I host. It’s mostly military members from all over Remnant but, if you don’t mind a bit of morbidly crass humor- a habit I’m attempting to break the lot of them from, with limited results- we’d be honored with your presence.  
Yang: No offense, but I doubt a bunch of soldiers would be “honored” by a mechanic.  
You: The first thing I teach is to see similarities instead of differences. You saw something dangerous and, rather than run away, you ran towards it. All of us share that experience.  
You: Except Carl.  
Yang: What happened to him?  
You: I apologize; it’s a military specific meme. Winter mentioned you’re rather fond of memes.  
Yang: Oh, so you know what a meme is, but she doesn’t?  
You: Don’t tell her I said so- she’s a very good soldier- but she’s always had a stick up her ass. She could use more memes in her life.  
Yang: Should I take that as an order?  
You: Absolutely.  
Yang: Can do. And, uh, sure. About the support group.  
You: Excellent! I’ll give Winter the details so she can pass them onto you. It was wonderful taking to you, Miss Yang.  
Yang: Yeah, you too, Sir.  
You: It’s Winter again. I hope that helped.  
Yang: Did you literally walk into the office of the commanding General of Atlas’ military, just to hand him your scroll and say ‘talk to this bitch’?  
You: I didn’t use those words; I told him I had a friend who recently attended physical therapy post amputation and I thought some words of encouragement from him would be a good idea.  
You: Wait, did he literally say I have a stick up my ass?  
Yang: WOOOW, meme savvy he might be, but apparently he doesn’t know how to delete a text message.  
You: I can’t believe he’d say that.  
You: I most certainly do not have a stick lodged in my posterior, figurative or otherwise.  
Yang: I’d offer to check but that’s a bit too fast too soon, so I’ll just say you seem alright to me.  
You: Thank you, Yang.  
Yang: Cranky when I wake you up at the asscrack of dawn, though. That might be when ass and stick are firm friends.  
You: Do not make me take it back.  
Yang: I’m just kidding!  
Yang: Seriously, though, thanks. You didn’t have to do that.  
You: You’re welcome.

-Today, 0233-  
Yang: Did you know it takes the average person seven minutes to fall asleep?  
You: I sincerely thought you’d be asleep by now.  
Yang: I did. Woke up.  
Yang: Sorry.  
You: Do you know what a contact truck is?  
Yang: Uh, no, no idea.  
You: It’s the military vehicle utilized by mechanics, outfitted with tools, so they can drive out and repair other vehicles. Do you know why it’s called that?  
Yang: Hit me with it.  
You: That was an actual question.  
Yang: Huh?  
You: I’ve been asking for as long as I’ve been in. Not even General Ironwood knows why it’s called that. It just is.  
Yang: omg that’s hilarious  
You: It’s that, too. Also incredibly vexing.  
You: I just want to know why it’s called that.  
Yang: Heh. If I find out, I’ll let you know.  
You: Go back to sleep, Yang.  
Yang: I’ll try. Night.  
You: And sweet dream.  
Yang: lol, same to you.


	28. Castaway's Comfort

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unnecessary prequel is unnecessary. Captain's Order's AU.

The storm raged, waves taller than a mast rolling and crashing together, lightning streaking the clouds. She caught flashes of it amid being drug under, every muscle in her body screaming as she poured all her energy and strength into just keeping her head above water- a battle she seemed to be losing.

Captain Winter Schnee, the Seawolf, one of Her Majesty’s finest sailors, found herself tossed overboard after an errant order from her consistently foolish First Mate steered them directly into a storm. She’d awoken with the violent rocking of her ship and hurried to the top deck, tying lines and securing ropes, shouting orders above the din. Her lie line, she’d left to last, and paid for it dearly when they crested a wave and plunged deep into the trough, robbing her of her balance even as the sea pushed her over the rails.

She hadn’t even a chance to get her bearings- were they still en route to Onyx Cove or elsewhere altogether?- but nothing mattered in the moment nearly as much as surviving the rolling waves and keeping the salty sea water from flooding her lungs.

Then, with the force of a a cannonball, she fetched up against a jutting rock, a pained cry spilling from her lips as the ragged point dug into her back. Just barely keeping her bearings enough to latch on with her remaining strength, the sea tried to drag her back in as she spat water out, coughing and shuddering and clinging for dear life. Reaching blindly, she found a handhold, and then another, pulling herself from the relentless waves until she could heave her battered body atop the rock. The wind and rain still beat at her, thunder loud enough to render all else mute cracking above, and she shut her eyes tight against the flash of lightning.

_Maidens… I might not survive this…_

The thought made her blood run cold, teeth gritting against the stab of agony running through her back. Of all the ways to die, this seemed at once the most likely and most impossible. Tossed overboard during a storm- a disgraceful end for a sailor of her caliber, even it if constituted a death at sea like she always expected. But the Navy would sail on, as ever, a lighthouse among the waves.

 _Stop thinking like that._  She chastised herself, pushing herself up and cracking her eyes open, trying to shield them from the rain to gather her bearings.  _Your crew will come for you. You can’t give up so easily; you’re a Schnee, damnit._

Shaking off her injury as best she could, she tried to gather her bearings. Rocks meant land and land meant life, so it stood to reason that if she could make her way to land, she could signal her crew when the ship inevitably returned for her.

She’d have to wait out the storm, though, or else risk falling mercy to the waves once more.

Winter pressed against the rock, holding on for dear life while the storm continued to rage. For hours, for days, she couldn’t tell how much time had passed until that first break in the constant pounding of wind and rain, when the eye of the storm reached her and she had the chance to look around.

First, she took note of the line of rocks at the bottom of a steep cliff side, then followed it to a slope that led down to a beach. Although it ached to merely think it, she pushed herself to her feet and started scrabbling across, jumping from rock to rock. If she could make it to land, she might stand a chance.

However, the blow to her back twinged after landing on the second to last one, causing her legs to give out beneath her, and she fell into the water again, fighting to reach the surface. Swimming to the shore proved a chore, the ache of every stroke robbing her of more strength, but she crawled onto the sandy beach, just barely past the break where high tide would roll in, Winter collapsed, confident she’d at least improved her odds of surviving if nothing else.

Face down, she had to summon the strength from deep within to roll over, wincing as the pain lanced up and down her spine. If she was lucky, it would be a bruise and nothing more, but the stinging hinted that perhaps skin had broken- a wound she would need to tend at some point. Hopefully after she’d returned to her ship.

Now safe from the waves and inhaling sand with every breath, the agony sapped the last of her strength until her eyes slipped closed. She awoke when the eye of the storm passed, the rain becoming unrelenting once again, and somehow found the energy to roll back over and crawl into the vegetation. As luck would have it, they weren’t near any inhabited islands as far as she could recall, which meant she’d likely need to build a signal of some sort once the storm passed.

The moment she got her hands on her first mate, there’d be hell to pay.

* * *

A few days after the storm passed, she’d managed to collect up enough brush and dry it out suitably to build a fire- at first, just one big enough to begin chasing the cold that lingered in her bones away. With her uniform tattered and soaked, she’d likely fall ill soon if she didn’t keep the fire going. It remained one of the many things she found herself focusing on to ignore the lack of a ship on the horizon and the ache in her back.

She’d used the flint from her pistol to help build the fire, seeing as the gunpowder would do her no good. A thorough search of the beach and part of the forest that seemed to make up the majority of the small island indicated a lack of wildlife, leaving her only recourse for food the strange fruits she found growing on the trees. On top of everything else, she’d need to develop some manner of catching fish, which would be her only way of gaining sustenance until she was rescued.

Her crew truly could not get there quick enough.

… but in the back of her mind, she worried that, perhaps, she’d been forgotten altogether.

She did her best to banish the thought.

* * *

_“You’re kinda cute when you sleep, ya know.”_

_Winter opened her eyes to glare at her bedmate. Strange that she would see the woman now, in the light of day, when their agreement remained that one or the other would be gone before sunrise. “What are you doing here?”_

_“What? You really want me to go?” Yang smiled, blonde strands framing her face while her hat sat low on her brow, head propped up by a fist against her cheek as they lay beside one another. Odd, because usually the pirate had the good sense to not wear her hat once they entered the room- wait.  
_

_“I’m dreaming,” she said, casting a gaze around and recognizing half a hundred details, but none of them from the same location. Tavern rooms all along the coast, in more than a dozen port cities- places where they’d indulged in one another while agreeing to keep their professional rivalry out of it. “This isn’t real.”  
_

_“Maybe not,” the woman replied, flashing a smile that reached all the way to her lilac eyes. “At least now I can say I’m the woman of your dreams.”  
_

_“Hardly.” She rolled her eyes and then turned over, offering her back to her occasional lover. “I’d never consider idolizing a pirate.”  
_

_“Methinks the lady doth protest too much.” When an arm wrapped around her waist, she could almost feel it- she could remember the sense of calm it sparked the last time Yang pulled her in like this, how it set her frazzled nerves at ease. Even if she didn’t experience the weight of it, the firmness of hard earned muscle setting just beneath her rib cage, it still calmed her. “You like me.”  
_

_“I like what you have to offer.” That seemed as much a concession as she would allow herself.  
_

_“If you say so.” Yang leaned over and pressed a kiss to her base shoulder before getting out of the bed.  
_

Winter snapped awake, the cool evening breeze rolling over her. She’d fashioned a sort of lean-to from the branches she managed to tear down but it was arduous work for a person with no tools, her saber lost to the waves. Her back hadn’t healed yet and she’d needed a nap just to recover her strength…

… which seemed to be more and more difficult to do with each passing day.

Running a hand over her face, she forced herself to her feet and checked to see if she had enough rain water to drink or if she’d need to strain more seawater- the latter of which proving true. Considering the vegetation, it had to rain fairly often, but the storm had left only scattered showers in its wake.

And she’d yet to catch a fish, as the gnawing hunger in her gut reminded her.

“I’m Captain Winter Schnee,” she said, speaking aloud more often now just to hear something other than the breaking waves. “I won’t be defeated by something as simple as hunger.”

Her stomach pointedly growled, as if to call her bluff, but she ignored it.

* * *

Winter sat, propped up against a tree and listlessly watching the setting sun catch in the waves. Two weeks passed without any sign her ship would return for her. Perhaps they’d been blown off course… perhaps they’d sunk…

It seemed harder to hold onto hope with each passing day.

“You’re looking a little glum.”

She winced, ignoring the way the corners of her vision turned blurry. Days without food and what little water she’d managed to separate from salt hadn’t done her psyche much good. “You’re not real.”

“Yeah, that’s true.” It was just a hallucination, one that would disappear if she turned her head to look properly, but it still registered in her mind that Yang had sat down beside her. Bedecked in her usual garb, it seemed much easier to deal with her now rather than the dreams she’d started getting. “But, I’m probably here for a reason.”

“You’re here because I’m dehydrated and malnourished,” she said, closing her eyes and sighing. “You wouldn’t be here otherwise.”

“Would you want me here then?”

“What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean.” Yang laughed, and she could hear it, clear as crystal, even though she knew it to be merely a memory. “Are you only okay with my company when you’re horny?”

“Even in my head, you’re crass.” Winter groaned, shifting slightly, trying to stay in the shade as much as possible. However, every motion just sent jolts of pain through her back. “We have an agreement. It’s as simple as that.”

“If it  _was_  that simple, I wouldn’t be here right now.”

Opening her eyes, she turned her head and effectively dismissed the hallucination.

Among everything else, she simply didn’t want to deal with that as well.

* * *

Three weeks since she’d fallen overboard. Three weeks and her ship hadn’t returned. She kept the signal fire going but, as the smoke rose into the sky, she felt a sort of helplessness and hopelessness nipping at her heart.

It didn’t help that she hadn’t had another hallucination. Even if all the apparition did was vex her, it gave her reason to think and speak, rather than moving between motions. Purify the water, try to catch a fish, succeed at the first and fail at the second- perhaps she should’ve refined her fishing skills when she’d had the chance.

“When did you have the chance?” Her lips curled into a small smile as she sat before the fire, seeing a figure move at the corner of her vision and sit down silently beside her. “You seem like the workaholic type. When was the last time you even took a vacation?”

“I’m not answering that,” she replied, lifting a bowl she’d carved out of wood with the sharp edge of a stone and drinking from it a mixture of water and smashed fruits. It tasted awful but she needed to try something to keep what little strength remained to her up. “You already know the answer anyway.”

“Yeah… it’s kinda funny, huh? I know more about you than the real Yang does.”

A frown tugged at her lips. “She wouldn’t be interested in finding out.”

“Uh, I’m pretty sure the record shows otherwise.” Yang laughed, and in her mind’s eye, she could see it- that big smile that spread over her lips whenever she’d hustled some poor fool in a tavern, the way her shoulders shook with her mirth. “She asks an  _awful_  lot of questions when she thinks she can get away with it.”

That… was true, now that she really thought about it. She’d often dismissed the pirate’s habit of asking personal questions after coitus as nothing more than a means to fill the silence. Perhaps… that wasn’t the case.

“Why are you here?”

“Only you can answer that.” A sigh, and she felt tempted to look over but refrained by the barest margins. “Maybe it’s because you know this is where I’d want to be.”

“I’m afraid I’m in no condition for our typical activities, even if you  _were_  real.”

“Is that all you think there is to me? Or yourself, for that matter?”

This time, she couldn’t help but look over, immediately cursing herself as the hallucination vanished. It just… felt nice to  _talk_  to someone, even if that person happened to be digging too deep into topics best left resting.

Because she knew, for certain, that there  _could_  be nothing more. Captain Yang Xiao Long was an unapologetic pirate queen who sailed the seas for years; she would not change. A tempest given mortal form, she would always find ways of thumbing her nose at the crown and laugh at whatever reaction it might garner.

And Winter was a soldier- a sailor, yes, but a soldier first- and she’d given the exact sort of loyalty she’d expected to be returned.

Unfortunately, as the sun set on another day, she had to confront the reality that maybe her loyalty was a one way street.

* * *

A week passed. Yang didn’t return. She’d even called out for her and dozed lightly, hoping it might help.

But it seemed like she’d finally been left alone.

“Maidens… let her come back…” Why she would beseech an empty heavens remained a mystery but she’d grown too weak to climb the taller trees. Now, she had to resort to knocking fruit from the lower ones, and she still hadn’t managed to catch a fish. The lack of meat had taken its toll as effectively as the constant hunger, because while the fruit filled her, it didn’t fill her  _enough_. “Just… bring her back to me… please…”

“You’ve never been the religious sort.”

A smile broke across her lips as she lay in the sand of the beach, the night sky twinkling overhead. “A desperate woman does many unexpected things.”

“Oh, desperate, now that’s something you don’t call yourself often, huh?” Still, Yang lurked as a spectre at the edge of her vision, the cloak she’d worn in Beigen shifting with the wind. “You need to keep your spirits up. Hold onto hope.”

“It’s been a month,” she replied. “No one’s coming.”

“Well, maybe no one Navy. But if I find out, I’ll come.”

“I’ll be dead by then.” Winter paused. “Would Yang really come though?”

“Why wouldn’t she?” The hallucination moved closer, kneeling down beside her head. She could almost make out some features but everything seemed draped in shadow- she may very well be dreaming, now that she thought about it, stuck in some manner of half asleep haze. “She cares about you.”

“Not to that degree.”

“I think we both know that’s a lie.” Yang reached up, removing her hat- just a blur in her vision but a meaningful gesture all the same. “You’ve noticed it. The way she lingers, the questions she asks- she’s interested in you as more than a bedmate.”

“What you’re reciting is…” She stopped just short, knowing that by voicing the words she’d be lending them power. So she shifted blame as always- so much easier to do it came as second nature. “Convenience. It would be convenient if Yang had feelings for me, when it seems I’ve been abandoned by all others.”

“If that’s what you want to tell yourself.” The hallucination began to dissipate. “But if these  _are_  your last days, are you truly going to spend them in denial?”

Winter remained silent, staring at the night sky.

* * *

Good news seemed impossible to come by but the injury to her back had  _mostly_  healed. Still sore, still tender, but no longer an open wound. With her strength waning, however, it didn’t do her much good. Not to mention she’d already harvested all the nearby fruit, meaning she’d have to venture further into the forest or finally catch a fish. Neither seemed appealing.

“You’re a terrible optimist.”

“That’s why I have  _you_  around,” she said, throwing more leaves onto the fire and hoping for the best. The rain from the night before made it nearly impossible to keep it going and harder still to find fresh food to feed it but she somehow managed, albeit not without tearing her own uniform even more and using some of it as well, which seemed to dry much faster than the leaves and wood. “Tell me about my chances of surviving this.”

“Do you believe in Yang?”

Winter growled, rounding on the apparition. “She’s not coming,  _no one_  is; I’ll die here, I know that! Stop trying to persuade me into thinking I’ve left behind someone who cared about  _me_ \- there’s none! The only person who cared about me was Weiss and  _she_  was lost years ago! Just like this! Not Mother, not Father, not my crew, not even Yang! No! One! Cares!”

The hallucination disappeared the moment she turned, of course, but she shouted for her own sake. To release the fury that had coiled in her chest and allow the tears that sprang to her eyes to fall- a moment of weakness when she confronted her own fate. She could be allowed that.

“Yang  _does_  care about you, though.”

She hung her head, clenching her hands into weak fists. “Just because I  _want_  that to be true doesn’t mean it  _is_.”

Her vision blurry from weakness and tears, she could still make out the vague shape of Yang’s boots at the corner of her vision. Worn and scuffed and in need of new soles- she’d had time to inspect them one morning when she happened to be the first to wake. Winter hadn’t meant to do so; she’d simply gotten lost staring at them while waging a battle in her mind.

“You’ve been thinking about this for a while, you know.”

“I know,” she replied, weakly. Because the thought occurred to her more than once- wouldn’t it be nice if Yang cared about her, wouldn’t it be nice if the feeling that seemed to dwell in her chest when they were together wasn’t entirely one sided, wouldn’t it be nice if they could be something other than rivals locked in constant battle?

“Will you ever say it?”

“She won’t hear it.”

“No, but I will. That’s something, right?” The boots shifted as Yang knelt down. “I mean, if you can’t even admit it to yourself… did you really stand a chance?”

Winter sniffled and wiped at her face, composing herself. For a moment, it seemed like she wouldn’t be able to do it. But after staring into the fire- the tongues lapping at the air somehow reminding her of Yang’s hair caught in the wind- she found her courage. “I love her.” It did feel liberating, in a way. “I love her… and I never told her.”

Well, right up until  _that_  part.

“She might still come. You might be able to change that.”

“She’d be better off not.” Her shoulders fell as her gaze once again dropped. “I don’t have much to offer her. Dead sailors don’t earn much and I doubt I’d be able to claim any sort of birthright now. If I go back to the Navy…”

“For the record? I don’t think you exactly  _need_  to give Yang anything. You wouldn’t ask anything of her, would you?”

She thought about it. Hard. Because, before, she’d always put the thought from her mind before allowing it to fester this far. But now?

“No.” Winter felt her heart break for a number of reasons. One being that she knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that what she spoke was nothing short of the truth. “I would just ask for her. However she saw fit to be with me, I would accept.”

“You wouldn’t ask her to stop being a pirate?”

“No.”

“Or to join the Navy?”

“No.”

“Become a privateer?”

“No,” she said, and curled in on herself, just a little. “She’s Yang. That’s who she is and I wouldn’t change that…”

Again, the boots shifted. “That’s gonna be hard, with you being loyal to the crown and all.”

“I’m not loyal to the crown.” How many summons had she ignored? How many bounties had she passed over? How many times had she deliberately reported false information? All to keep up the ruse that she wanted to capture the infamous pirate but she’d never intended on doing that, now had she? No. For longer than she’d cared to admit, she hadn’t been in service to the crown. “I’m loyal to  _her_.”

“Well, then, you better get your ass off this rock so you can tell her.”

She looked up, surprised when she could almost look at the hallucination without it disappearing. “That’s impossible.”

“No, it’s not.” Yang smiled. “The first step is to have hope. To keep fighting. As long as you’re here, there’s a chance she’ll find you.”

Although she truly didn’t have the strength for it, she pushed herself to her feet. “I suppose I should figure out how to fish, then.”

“That’s the spirit.”

Winter cast her gaze around for the stick she’d sharpened, hoping to make a harpoon of some sort. Then, she waded out into the water and hoped for the best.

* * *

It took three days of trying before she speared a fish, which presented a new problem: preparing it. Ultimately, she ended up wasting more meat than she ate but, for the little bit she ate, it tasted  _good_. Delicious.

Yang sat beside her, now seemingly called into existence every time she spoke or just wanted to see her. In the back of her mind, she realized it was just a hallucination, the same as always.

But it comforted her all the same.

“So, how’s it taste?”

“Like char and trees- but delicious nonetheless,” she replied in between bites. She didn’t quite know how to remove the scales, so she’d taken to just splitting it in half with her crude stone knife and cooking it that way, then eating from the inside out. “Yang would know how to cook this properly.”

“She probably does.” Yang leaned back on her hands. “Have you thought about how you’re going to tell her?”

“Every time I think about it, my stomach hurts.”

“That’s just hunger.”

“I’m quite certain it’s anxiety.” A mirthless chuckle. “Comparatively, you’re easier to talk to; I know you won’t say anything I don’t want to hear.”

Yang tilted her head. “Have you considered you know Yang better than you think you do? I don’t think I’d be here trying to get through that thick skull of yours if you thought for a second she’d turn you down.”

“That’s circular logic that would make Father proud,” she said, looking up at the apparition. “I  _want to believe_  I know the real Yang Xiao Long, that she’s the woman who likes to cuddle in the early morning hours and prefers mead to ale, that she rarely drinks rum but usually only does when it’s to keep up appearances, that when she’s softest is when she’s being truest to herself and not playing at a role.” A sigh left her lips as she leaned back, laying on the little thatch mat she’d fashioned for herself. “But, at the end of the day, that could just be wishful thinking. I love her. I’d like to think that she loves me in return. I just don’t have any proof.”

“What sort of proof do you need?”

“I’d… need to hear it from her lips.” Now with a mostly full belly, she found sleep calling to her. Even if it tasted relatively awful, it constituted the most nourishment she’d had in over a month. “That my feelings are returned.”

“In order for her to return your feelings, she’d have to know about them first.”

Winter groaned. “You’re just as vexing as the real Yang.”

A laugh, though it didn’t ring as clear as the first time she’d imagined hearing it. “Hey, that’s why you love her.”

Her hallucination wasn’t wrong.

* * *

Winter lay on the beach as the morning sun began to set, one leg heavily wrapped in leaves- just about the cleanest manner of bandaging available to her at present. Her plan to subsist on fish hadn’t worked out in her favor; some manner of shark had caught the scent of blood and grazed her calf while stealing her meal. Not a deep cut and it had stopped bleeding fairly quickly, considering her worsening state, but it had taken not only her food but a considerable amount of her willpower with it.

Thin wisps of smoke rose up over the forest- she’d neglected the fire in the past day or so, resigning herself to her fate. Almost two months now; the chances of her being rescued had shrunk beyond what she found to be even remotely possible. And she’d known that, since the moment she realized the Navy wouldn’t come for her, that her own crew had left her to die. Still, she’d allowed her hallucination to talk her into believing a fairy tale- that her lover would sail in, all smiles and bright cheer, and save her.

She’d always hated those stories growing up, the ones where someone just waited around for someone else to save them. Now that she’d had a taste of despair, though, she supposed she could understand the mentality a bit.

“Are you giving up?”

“Go away,” she replied, cracking her eyes open to see Yang standing over her, this time bedecked in the bare minimum. No belt for her gun or sword, no coat, no gloves, hat, or even boots. Just a thin, loose white shirt and brown breeches. “You’re not real.”

“Would you want me to stay if I  _was_  real?”

“Of course.”

“Then you can’t give up yet.”

“It’s a losing fight.” She let her eyes fall closed. “She’s not coming.”

“You don’t know that.” The voice sounded closer, so she opened her eyes again to find Yang laying beside her. More than once, she thought she’d caught a similar sight- Yang, leaning over her, softness in her eyes and a small smile on her lips. Regarding her as a lover would. “You’re in a bad spot and it’s hard to fight that but you can’t give up. You’re Captain Winter Schnee.”

“I’m no Captain,” she said, and she meant every word. “Even if the Navy showed up right now, I’ll never wear the uniform again.”

“Because they left you?”

“Because it’s mutually exclusive.” She rolled onto her side, facing her personal poltergeist- the reminder of all the things she’d fail to say to one of the most important people in her life. “I can’t be in the Navy  _and_  be with Yang. I must give up one or the other, and I choose the Navy.” A bit of heat came to her voice. “And I’m no Schnee, either. What good has that name ever brought me? Nothing. Simply high expectations and a curse I’ve born every day of my life.”

“So you’re just Winter.”

“I’m just a dead woman.” Her eyes started to close. “With a broken heart of my own design.”

“Would you give anything to see her again?”

“See her… touch her… kiss her…” Although she truly didn’t have the energy or the fluids to spare, tears sprang to her eyes anyway. Just two, all she could really muster given her state, as she reached a hand out, stopping just shy of touching Yang. Because it wasn’t  _really_  Yang, now was it? “Just one more time.”

“You’ll have that chance. But  _you_  have to take it.” She looked up, into Yang’s face, and saw nothing but a dopey grin- an expression of absolute love and awe. “Yang believes in you. She wouldn’t have come all this way if she didn’t. Now it’s your turn. Don’t miss your chance.”

And with that, in the blink of an eye, Yang disappeared… and beyond her, Winter could make out something vague, bobbing along the waves. It… looked like a ship… with  _very_  distinctive sails.

“Yang…” She pushed herself up and started walking, along the beach until she’d reached the furthest point. With the wind in her sails, the  _Longwang_  crested each wave triumphantly, and looked like it was heading straight for the island.

The sensible thing would be the wait until they’d weighed anchor and lowered a boat.

But after two months of being stranded on a remote island, talking to nothing but a hallucination and starving… she didn’t have much in the way of sense at present.

So she began to walk, wading out through the shallows until she had to swim, and she poured what energy she had into fighting through the waves herself. She could feel the leaves she’d wrapped around her leg coming loose but didn’t bother turning back- she couldn’t even be sure she wasn’t hallucinating the ship but it didn’t matter.

Perhaps she was a fool, choosing to believe… but she would take it, even if it meant she did, in fact, drown at sea after surviving the storm.

It was worth the risk.

“MAN OVERBOARD!”

She didn’t know how long she’d been swimming but, at the sound of the shout, she stopped and tread water, listening to the commotion on deck as the pirates scrambled to weigh anchor and throw something down to her. A rope was the first thing to land in her hand, and she clung to it, even though she didn’t have the strength to pull herself up.

Luckily, that didn’t seem to be a problem as several of the pirates either jumped over board with their lifelines or climbed down the ladder, hauling her up onto the ship’s deck with very little effort on her part. Which was good, because she truly didn’t have much left in her.

But then she saw Yang, striding through her crew, lightly pushing a few aside as she came to stand before Winter. Relief swelled in her chest and she quite nearly found the words- the very ones she’d said to her hallucination over and over.

Yet, they didn’t leave her lips in time.

“Looks like we’ve found quite the castaway, haven’t we?” The crew jeered and laughed, and suddenly Winter remembered something very important: she wasn’t talking to Yang, the  _real_  Yang all those weeks. It was just a version of the woman in her head. Standing before her? A pirate captain, and one who seemed to be thriving off her crew’s response. “And what should we do with her, hmmm? This naval officer without the Crown to protect her?” 

Winter held the words in her heart… but she had no illusions about the truths she’d uncovered. She wouldn’t be able to return to her former life. For whatever reason Yang had come to find her, it didn’t matter; she’d be whatever the woman asked of her.

If all Yang wanted of her was her body, she’d offer it up freely, and never hint at the sadness in her heart at her love not being returned.


	29. Watch Over Them

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The third and likely last installment- a sequel to Watch Over You and Watch Over Me (Chapters 15 & 19 respectively).

Zephyr sighed, rolling up the sleeves of her shirt and turning on the water as Zach set the dirty silverware in the sink. They had a dishwasher but Momma preferred for them to do everything by hand after home cooked meals. As much as she didn’t like the chore it really didn’t bother her too much; between recording sessions and meetings with record labels and bands and the like, Mom and Momma usually had to settle for leftovers or takeout. Only about once a week did they have the energy and time for cooking. And, really, the five of them didn’t make _too_ big of a mess, though sometimes Mom would invite a friend to join them. Not tonight, though, as they’d enjoyed the meal with just the five of them.

“Why do we always get stuck on dish duty?” Zise lightly complained after dropping off the rest of their glasses for her to wash, setting aside her scroll for the moment to grab a rag and dry whatever Zephyr handed her.

“Because Zach could hardly reach the counter until last year,” she replied, patting her brother’s head when he dropped off another load of silverware, smiling wide at a job well done. “The sooner we finish, the sooner you can get back to your game.”

“C’mon, I do other things beside game.”

“Like what?”

Her sister deliberately paused. “Breathing?”

The two of them laughed and set about their task, with one washing and the other drying, putting aside the finished pieces for Mom or Momma to store later. “How’s your game going, anyway?”

Zise groaned, setting aside a freshly dried cup while her expression pinched due to frustration. “Not great, honestly. After my last base got destroyed, I tried doing a storyline quest I’m not high enough level to do, and then tried using some stuff to buff my stats, but that didn’t work. Now, I’m completely stuck _and_ addicted to alcohol and me-”

_Crash!_

Zephyr and her sister jumped, whirling around to see Mom standing in the entryway, bits of ceramic scattered across the floor. The broken plates didn’t really catch her attention nearly as much as the look on Mom’s face, wide blue eyes watching them. She looked... terrified, in a way Zephyr had never seen before, the faintest tremble in her shoulders.

“Snowdrift? Kids?” Momma appeared behind Mom, obviously worried. Lilac eyes bounced between the broken shards and the sisters. “Zeph? What happened?”

“I-I dunno, Mom just dropped the plates and-”

“It’s my fault,” Mom said, but her voice sounded... almost hollow and the shaking got worse. “Glynda, we- we need to call Glynda-”

“Snowdrift?” Momma got even more worried, wrapping her arms around Mom as the woman’s legs gave out beneath her and she started crying- and Mom didn’t cry. Not often, anyway, and the sisters exchanged distressing glances while Zach peeked into the kitchen. “Stay back, Zach; girls, be careful and get the broom, let’s clean this up-”

“We need to get her help.” Mom started shaking her head and pushing away from Momma, who seemed reluctant to let her go. “I did this, it’s my fault, she needs help-”

“Winter, stop, I don’t understand what you’re saying, who-”

And in a voice that Zephyr could only describe as ‘broken’, Mom hung her head and spoke, absolutely refusing to meet anyone’s gaze. “Zise’s making my mistake.”

Suddenly, Momma went from worried to a stone cold sort of silent, slowly turning her head. Momma didn’t get mad often- at least, not at them, though she sometimes swore under her breath in traffic- but this went beyond ‘mad’. _Far_ beyond. Both sisters hunched their shoulders when lilac eyes fell on them with the force of a sledgehammer, though Momma’s gaze seemed directed at only one of them. “Zise. Are you doing drugs? Of _any_ sort?”

“No!” Her sister looked at her then, pleading and confused. “No, Momma, I swear, I-” Then, it clicked. “W-we were just talking about a game; you can do drugs in the game, like alcohol and stuff, but it’s not real! I’ve never really done anything, honest!”

For a moment, Momma just stood there, trying to keep Mom from pulling away, and then she sighed. “All three of you, watch where you’re stepping and go to the living room. Mom and I will be there in a minute.” They hesitated, the sisters looking at each other briefly. “ _Now_ , girls.”

“Yes, Momma.” They both murmured, picking their way around the shards and following Zach into the living room. They could hear their parents talking in hushed voices but couldn’t make out the words and it worried her more than words could say.

“I didn’t mean to get us in trouble,” Zise said, glancing at the doorway and hunching her shoulders as the three of them settled on the couch.

Zach immediately sat up a bit straighter, slightly alarmed. “Wait, we’re in trouble?”

“I don’t think we _are_ in trouble,” she replied, putting an arm around her brother to calm him down. “I think we just scared Mom, that’s all.”

“That’s impossible.”

“Yeah.” Zach nodded. “Mom doesn’t _get_ scared.”

“Yes, she does.” Momma stepped into the room, arms crossing over her chest as she leaned back against the doorway, and watched as Mom shuffled in, sitting down in her chair... bonelessly. It unnerved Zephyr, because she’d never seen Mom act like this, like... like all the fight had fled from her. “And we need to have a serious talk.”

“Momma, it’s just a game-”

She held up a hand, bringing the objection to an end. “I understand you were talking about a game and we can talk about _that_ later. Right now, Mom has something she wants to say.”

Mom put her head in her hands, seeming to marshal her strength and straighten up, though some sort of deep hurt splayed across her expression and it almost made Zephyr tear up. She’d... never seen Mom like this or the hard jut to Momma’s jaw. “Zephyr, Zise, Zach... there’s something we’ve never told you about me, about who I was before any of you were born-”

“That was my idea.” Momma chimed in, though she immediately fell silent again as they exchanged a look.

“Yes...” She sighed, heavily, and hung her head. “Kids, back then, I served in the military during the occupation of Silas.” Her gaze moved to Zephyr and Zise. “You two have heard about that, right?” They both nodded; they’d known Mom served and the bare basics of the occupation itself, though not all the details- things they were assured they’d learn when older. Mom didn’t like talking about it and even Momma seemed hesitant about revealing too much, as if something happened back then that they weren’t supposed to know. “When I came back... I wasn’t a very good person.”

“Winter.” Momma’s lips turned down in a frown, a clear warning in her tone. It was the same tone of voice she used whenever chiding them about something, though she couldn’t figure out what she might be getting onto Mom about.

“Let me tell them in my own words. As far as I’m concerned, it’s the truth.” Mom winced, running a hand through the bangs that always fell across her right eye. She looked… well, a bit more steady, but still upset, summoning her strength to keep her voice even. “I _wasn’t_ a very good person or partner. I made mistakes.” Then, her gaze refocused on the three of them on the couch. “Of those mistakes, I started abusing addictive substances... like alcohol and heroine. And I treated your Momma _horribly_.”

Zephyr could see the way Momma opened her mouth as if to object but refrained, though she didn’t exactly seem happy about Mom’s explanation.

“Eventually, it reached a point where your Momma had to leave me, because otherwise I wouldn’t get the help I needed. It worked... but we didn’t see each other until I was completely sober again, six months later.” A shuddering breath. “And when you were born, Zephyr, I wasn’t there for either of you and I _swore_ I would never betray you or Momma like that again... but I broke that promise, too.”

Momma raised a fist to her mouth, biting into her knuckles to prevent herself from objecting. _That_ , at least, she recognized from those rare times when Momma was trying not to argue with someone while Mom stepped in and spoke calmly. 

“You were five.” She sniffled, wiping at her face- obviously trying to keep her voice steady despite the tears in her eyes. “Zach was just a baby, and the three of you stayed home with Momma while I went to an awards ceremony. It was just a- a silly formality thing. I thought I could handle it.” A choked back sob. “But I was weak and I stumbled. I drank and...” Abruptly, she stood up, beginning to pace as she tried to continue. “I- I tried to leave. To stop, I left the ceremony but- I don’t even know what I was thinking, but I was going back to the neighborhood that I...” Mom stopped, swallowing hard. “I was falling back into old habits. I... I broke my promise to stay clean.” When she looked at the three of them, Zephyr could see the pain in Mom’s expression. “I’m so sorry. I tried _so hard_ but I failed all of you. I-”

“Snowdrift.” This time, Momma’s voice was soft, that same tone she used whenever one of them had gotten hurt doing something they weren’t supposed to- that distinct mix of sympathy and chiding. “Go to your study. I’ll be there soon. Okay?”

For a moment, Mom seemed like she might argue, but when it came to disagreements like this, she usually retreated to the room for a bit of space. Now seemed to be no different as she reluctantly nodded, turning as if to make for the front door instead before redirecting herself towards the hall leading to her study.

But she didn’t make it out of the room before Zise launched off the couch, throwing her arms around Mom. “I’m sorry, Mom. I didn’t mean-”

“Hush, it’s alright.” Although it didn’t seem to wipe away the pain and sorrow from before, Mom managed to smile- a small, fragile thing. “I’m just- I’m glad I misunderstood. That’s all.” She bent down, pressing a kiss to the top of Zise’s head. “Listen to Momma. Understand?”

“Yes, Ma’am.” 

Although a bit slow in doing so, her sister returned to the couch, the three of them waiting while Momma sat in the chair Mom had occupied before. Zephyr had _so many_ questions- mostly about why Momma seemed so upset with Mom telling them the truth- but kept silent, convinced it would make sense in time. Their parents didn’t keep secrets from them often but they always did so with good reason.

“Kids. Before I even get into... _that_ , I need you to understand why this is the first time you’re hearing about any of this.” Momma pressed her lips into a thin line for a moment, obviously still trying to figure out how to word what she wanted to say. “Your Mom wanted to tell you about the mistakes she’s made years ago, when you were old enough to understand, but I never wanted any of you to look at her and see an addict. To… see her for the mistakes she’s made. That isn’t who she is but that’s all _she_ sees when she thinks about herself.” Her shoulders fell a little, glancing back towards the hallway. “She’s hard on herself. I’ve forgiven her for her mistakes, because everyone makes them, and once she realized what she’d done, she made every effort to get better. It took awhile but she worked hard to stay clean and I couldn’t be prouder of her for that. But she’s never given herself that much leeway. To her, every mistake she’s made is as terrible now as when she made them, even though she’s never repeated them.” Then Momma looked at her, a small, soft smile curling her lips. “Your Mom was still in rehab when you were born, Zephyr. And she apologized to you for that at every opportunity until I told her to stop.”

Zach tilted his head and raised his hand. Not that he needed to, of course, but he always approached delicate situations with a bit more care than his sisters. “What’s rehab?”

“When someone’s addicted to something- like alcohol- they need help to break the habit. Rehabilitation facilities- rehab- exist for people like that- for people like Mom, who need help becoming healthy again.” Momma paused. “You know those friends Mom brings around sometimes? The ones that have dinner with us?” All three of them nodded. “Those people are part of Mom’s support group. Even after all these years, she still goes to prove her sobriety- that she’s not using drugs or drinking alcohol, and she volunteers to help others overcome their addictions. _That_ is who your Mom is. She’s not an addict; she’s a helper.”

Zise’s brow pinched. “But, she said-”

“I know what she said. She told me the same story that night when she came home.” Momma’s expression softened. “But I talked to other people- people who were there and saw things without knowing your Mom’s past. Mom didn’t _mean_ to drink any alcohol; they were serving champagne and water in the same glasses- those tall, thin, fancy ones you’ve seen at Aunt Weiss’ house? Well, hers had water in it, but when she set it down, someone put a champagne one next to hers. She accidentally grabbed the wrong one during a toast and took a sip, then _immediately_ spat it out.”

“ _Spat_ it out?” Zephyr couldn’t help but be skeptical at that, purely because Mom had always been a bit strict about table manners and _very explicitly_ told them that spitting out food or drink was rude.

“She absolutely did, at a fancy party and everything, _the moment_ she realized that she’d grabbed the wrong glass. She never swallowed a drop.” What little amusement lingered in her eyes dimmed. “She _did_ immediately leave the party but... she never made it out of the parking lot. The people who were there said she got out of the doors, started pacing and freaking out in front of the building, then called a cab home. He- heck, I mean, even the cabbie admits she only gave one address, and that was ours.” Momma sighed, leaning back into the chair and running a hand over her face. “But that’s not how your Mom sees it. To her, she broke her promise, even unintentionally, and she spiraled to the worst case scenario because she was so upset by it. She never intended to do any of that, and accidents happen; I don’t hold it against her. But _she_ does.” A shake of her head. “It took three hours of me begging for her to just- just give it some time, for her to stay, because she had every intention of coming home that night only long enough to pack a bag and leave.” 

Zephyr thought back, barely able to picture those fuzzy memories, but she thought she could recall one night in particular, hushed voices that steadily grew louder as her parents argued over something and struggled to keep from waking them. The next morning, everything seemed normal enough, though Mom didn’t talk as much for a while, but she never thought anything of it.

“She was going to leave us?” She felt the genuine fear in Zach’s voice down to her core, unable to imagine what the past ten years might’ve been like without Mom there with them.

“Only to protect you.” Momma seemed at a loss for words then, blinking and wiping at her eyes. “I don’t... it’s not something I can understand but I get where she’s coming from. Some part of Mom has always feared that she’s failed each of you in some way, just by making those mistakes in the first place, and repeating them meant she wasn’t fit to be your mother. She’s always scared that she’ll set a bad example for you.”

Zise looked even guiltier than before as she hung her head, reaching up to scrub at the tears beginning to fall. “I didn’t mean to make her think that.”

“I know that. Deep down, she does, too. But this brought out an old fear Mom always had lurking and I knew it wouldn’t make sense to you three without the full story.”

Zephyr’s brows pinched together as she mulled over the information. “So... Mom’s been sober for fifteen years?”

“To me, yes.” Momma frowned. “To her? No. And I don’t think it’s something we’ll ever agree on, because we’re both too damn stubborn.”

“Language.”

“You’re right, Zach, sorry.” She sighed, dragging a hand down her face. “Kids... I just want you to understand that your Mom’s scared right now. She loves you three _so much_ and she doesn’t want to be the reason any of you get hurt. And addictions make you hurt, and hurt others.” A pause. “I was there with her, though, through the bad times and her recovery, and I _know_ she’d never go back to being that person. She just... doesn’t believe that like I do, yet, so she might be a little... weird for the next few weeks. All I’m asking is that you cut her a little bit of slack. Give her time to trust herself again.”

In the next moment, a question sprang to the tip of her tongue, but she bit down on it. In her heart, she knew the answer, and she didn’t want anyone thinking she might not. That she doubted anything about her parents.

But Momma caught the look in her eyes. “What is it, Zeph?”

She swallowed. As much as she wondered- and felt she already _knew_ the answer- she didn’t want to upset Momma. Then again, hiding the question away might cause her to worry even more, so she offered in a soft voice. “Did Mom ever hurt you? Like...”

“She never hit me,” Momma said, her eyes glazing over as she must’ve gone back to that time so far away. Zephyr expected that- between the two, Momma was more likely to throw a punch, and even then, she’d _never_ raise a hand to them or Mom- and the pain it would bring, and wished she could hide her curiosity a bit better. “But it broke my heart watching her addiction get worse. It broke my heart fighting with her about her addictions and begging and pleading only for it all to fall on deaf ears. It broke my heart to leave.” She took a shuddering breath. “And it would’ve broken my heart again if she’d ever fallen back into those old habits. I’m not going to defend her actions- she was wrong and we all know that- but I also realize she never stopped loving me. She just forgot how to show it for a while, and that hurt both of us. It hurt more than words could say, and finding out I was pregnant with you... it hurt thinking you might grow up like I did, never knowing one of your parents.” She fell silent for a moment, eventually shaking her head. “Yes, Zephyr, she _did_ hurt me, because that’s what addictions do. They make you hurt the people you love. She made the choice to indulge but she _also_ made the choice to get better, and she did it thinking she’d already lost any chance of me forgiving her.”

Then, it was ZIse’s turn to ask a question that maybe should’ve remained unspoken. “Why did you? Forgive her, I mean.”

“Because I still loved her. And I could tell she still loved me. So, I gave her another chance when I didn’t see any sign of the person she’d become. I didn’t see the addict; I only saw my Snowdrift, and that’s who she’s been all these years.” Momma shifted, clearing her throat. “When I told Mom I was pregnant, she said that we couldn’t be a family if I didn’t trust her and that whether or not I ever trusted her again was my decision. Well, I made it, and in all the time we’ve been together, I’ve never worried that she’d go back on her word. She doesn’t trust herself like that but... she trusts me and she trusts all of you. Please, just... just remember that.” Momma looked at Zise then. “Remember that her reaction wasn’t to get upset with you but to get you help. Mom just wants what’s best for you three and, right now, she’s scared she isn’t it.”

Silence settled over the living room and Zephyr looked over at her siblings. Zise still looked guilty and Zach seemed confused more than anything. Frankly, she felt... conflicted. Some part of her wished they’d known sooner... but she probably wouldn’t have the same grasp on the situation had she learned the details years earlier. Her brother certainly looked like he understood _most_ of what was said but didn’t understand why Mom or Momma would keep it from them.

“Kids...” Her brows pinched together as she looked away, rubbing at the back of her neck. “I want you to be honest with me. There’s no wrong answer, okay?” They nodded. “Does this change the way you see Mom?”

“No!” They replied immediately, though Zephyr winced when she noticed the look in Momma’s eyes that said she didn’t quite believe them.

“I mean...” She trailed off, searching for the words. “Mom’s still Mom. That hasn’t changed. She just... worked harder to stay with us than we knew.”

“Yeah. And... it makes sense now.” Zise shrugged, suddenly very interested in her fingernails. “Mom always says that forgiving people is important but we shouldn’t forgive people if they continue hurting us. It... makes sense. Why she says that last part so much.”

Zach looked down and shrugged when Momma’s gaze fell on him. “Mom’s not gonna leave, right? She didn’t do anything wrong, so she’s staying?”

Momma heaved a sigh, passing a hand over her face and through her hair. “She’s not leaving. Like I said, she might seem a little... distant over the next few weeks, but she loves us and she’s going to stay with us.” With that, she got to her feet, setting her hands on her hips. “Now, about this game, I want to be there the next time you play, Zise. I didn’t know there was any sort of drug use or we probably wouldn’t have gotten it for you, honestly, but since you already have it, we’re going to sit down-”

“Actually?” Her sister winced, ducking her head slightly. “Can we just trade it in or throw it away or something? I don’t wanna play if it’s gonna upset Mom.”

Pressing her lips into a thin line, Momma mulled it over. “You _do_ understand it’s just a game and real life drugs are bad for you, right?” Zise nodded. “Okay. Then, we’ll figure out what to do about the game later. For the meantime, try not to talk about that part of it where Mom can hear, okay? Just- just for now.” Almost immediately, she put a hand out, as if stopping the words in air. “I-I’m not saying you can’t talk to Mom if you’ve got, like, _real life_ questions or anything like that. I mean- Mom, she understands that stuff, and she’d do everything in her power to help. But it’s a sensitive topic-”

“We understand, Momma,” she said fairly confident her siblings wouldn’t be tempted to do anything that _might_ disappoint their parents, and certainly not now. “We’ll be more careful in the future.”

“Alright.” Passing a hand over her face, Momma sighed, obviously drained from the experience thus far, and still with more to go. “Zeph, can you help me out and clean up the mess in the kitchen? I’ll finish the dishes after I talk to Mom.” She turned, as if to leave, but paused and turned back. “I hope you three understand- I didn’t want to keep this a secret because I wanted to hide something from you. Mom’s... she’s made her mistakes but those are in her past, and she’s done everything she can to be a good Mom since then. Right?” They nodded, enthusiastically- they loved their parents and Zise had a tendency to brag about them to anyone who would listen. Zephyr shared the sentiment, if not the inclination to mention it to others. “Yeah. She’s been good to me, too. I just- I don’t want to keep throwing it in her face. She’s already dealt with so much and overcome all sorts of things. She should be allowed to move on, ya know?”

Zephyr shifted, tempted to withhold the question as Momma stepped through the doorway. But then, she asked anyway, opting to just get everything out in the open as much as possible. “Do you think she will?”

Momma stopped and looked back at her, a bit of sorrow in her eyes. “No. Because she still hasn’t forgiven herself, even after all these years.”

Then Momma continued on, likely to go talk to Mom and calm her down a bit more, leaving the three of them in the living room.

Slowly, she got off the couch and started towards the kitchen, carefully picking her way to the pantry, where they kept a broom and dustpan that would make the clean up a bit easier. All the while, she turned everything over in her head- not only finding out about the thing that quite nearly robbed her of even knowing Mom but also Mom’s reaction to the whole situation. Momma obviously didn’t want them talking about it too much, not to the point where it’d make Mom feel bad, but... she still had a lot of questions.

All of them centered around... why Mom couldn’t forgive herself. She remembered- vividly, in some instances- the times she’d broken the rules or broken something, usually with Zise’s help. Mom might chide them but she always forgave them after they apologized, even that time when Zise intentionally ruined her nice dress because she didn’t want to go to some fancy lunch that Momma was required to attend. It just... seemed so weird that she wouldn’t hold the same standard for herself- she apologized, she didn’t do it again, she didn’t mean it, shouldn’t that be enough?

“You do the drying,” Zise said as Zephyr dumped the majority of the shattered plate into the trashcan. 

When she looked over, she found her siblings attending to the dishes. “Momma said she was going to do that.”

“Momma needs to worry about Mom, not dishes,” her sister replied and she rightly couldn’t argue the point. Between the three of them, they had the kitchen back to normal in no time, and all the dishes put away save the broken plates.

Which left them little to do, aside from retreat to their rooms, and that would require walking past Mom’s study.

“C’mon,” she said, motioning for her siblings to follow. “We’ll just be quiet.”

The three of them crept down the hallway, heading towards their rooms, but ducked back around the corner when the door to Mom’s study opened.

“Are you sure?” Momma’s voice was soft, a bit of concern lingering.

“I am,” Mom replied, and she didn’t sound like before, but she still seemed sad. “I just... need to think.”

“Alright. I love you, Snowdrift.”

“I love you too, Sundrop.” A sigh. “But right now...”

“I get it.” The soft sound of a kiss. “Just remember, I’m right here for you.”

They stayed pressed against the wall as Momma headed for the kitchen, so lost in her thoughts she didn’t notice them, and then quickly scurried down the hallway to their rooms. Zephyr looked back after they’d passed the door to Mom’s study, left slightly ajar, and stopped dead in her tracks when she noticed her brother about to enter.

“Zach!” She tried to keep her voice down but it didn’t seem to catch his attention as he barreled into the room, prompting both sisters to follow. “ _Zach!_ ”

Mom turned around- having been looking through the window- just in time for Zach to nearly tackle her, throwing his arms around her hips.

“Thanks, Mom,” he said, not giving her much time to question their presence. “Thanks for staying and trying so hard. You really are the best, Mom.”

Mom shoulders fell a little. “Zach...”

Seeing as she wasn’t pushing him away, Zise quickly joined their brother, though her height allowed her to hug Mom a bit higher. “I’m sorry, Mom; I really didn’t mean to upset you. Thank you understanding.”

Seeing Mom’s composure break down a little more- and in a good way, because her lips were curling into a smile despite the tears in her eyes- Zephyr joined her siblings, going to Zach’s other side. “We love you Mom. You’re our hero.”

For a moment, all of them were still, and then Mom wrapped her arms around them as best she could, hugging them fiercely.

“I love all of you _so much,_ ” she said, trying to hold back sobs. “I’m sorry-”

“It’s okay, Mom.” Zephyr hugged her a bit tighter. “We’re just glad you’re here now.”

Then Zach started sniffling. “I don’t wanna think about if you _weren’t_ here.”

“Hush, now.” Mom soothed him, her voice soft as tears trailed down her face. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Catching movement out of the corner of her eye, she looked over and saw Momma leaning against the doorway, a small smile on her lips. But she still looked sad and Zephyr thought she knew why.

“Mom?” She waited until she had the woman’s attention before continuing. “It’s okay you were still in rehab when I was born. You didn’t have to be- you could’ve not gone or stopped going- but you wanted to be with Momma and me, and I have Zise and Zach because of it. If you hadn’t done that, we wouldn’t be a family.”

Mom blinked, trying and failing to stop her tears. “Zeph...”

“Mom?” Zise’s voice held a tremble, though she managed to summon her strength as she continued. “Can you forgive me? I really didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“Of course.” With a sigh, Mom caught Zise’s eyes, offering a small, reassuring smile. “You weren’t trying to hurt anyone; if anything, Momma and I should do a bit more research on the games you play. You’ve done everything you could to make amends. There’s nothing to be upset about.”

“Then why doesn’t that apply to you, too?” Zephyr had to conceal a smile; their parents often joked that her sister should be a lawyer, with how often she found ways to win arguments. Thankfully, she’d chosen to ply that talent in a _good_ way for once. “Momma told us everything and we forgive you. So, there’s nothing to be upset about, right?”

“I-”

“You love us, right Mom?” Zach murmured. “Enough to listen to us, right?”

“Okay, that’s enough, kids.” Momma stepped into the study, hands out in a placating gesture. “You might have the best intentions but this is guilt tripping and we’ve told you that isn’t something you should do.”

“Yang...” Mom paused, looking down at all three of them for a moment before continuing. “I think a family trip for ice cream is in order.”

Momma looked surprised, raising a brow. “Really?”

“Yes. Perhaps we can eat it in the park?”

That had all three of them perking up. They didn’t often go to the park as a family anymore, and the way Mom looked over at her guitar case meant they might even get to hear their parents play. They spent most of their time songwriting nowadays, which meant them playing together remained a special occasion sort of thing. On top of that, ice cream during the colder seasons seemed more like a suggestion their other parent would make, seeing as Mom rather disliked cold things, ironically.

Momma laughed, setting her hands on her hips. “Well, guess that sounds like a good plan, and I’m outvoted anyway.” She nodded her head. “Go get bundled up, kids.”

As the three gave Mom one last squeeze before hurrying off, Zephyr allowed herself to come bring up the rear so she could hear the quiet exchange between her parents.

“Ice cream in the park, huh?”

“I think we all deserve a treat.” Mom didn’t sound as sad anymore, though her voice did tremble. “Our children are growing into beautiful people.”

“I wonder where they get that from.” As Zephyr slipped out of the room, she smiled, because she could tell by the sound of Momma’s voice that she had a few thoughts on the answer to that.

Twenty minutes later, they were all dressed in winter coats and loading up into the family car, heading to an ice cream shop near the park. Both of their parents brought their guitars, and when they’d gotten their ice cream, they walked to the park’s fountain and sat on the edge, listening to Mom and Momma play while they enjoyed their ice cream. For some reason, when the beginning flurries of a winter storm began drifting down, Mom laughed until she cried while Momma pulled her into a hug and shook her head, discouraging questions for the moment.

Zephyr felt certain there were more details they might or might not learn as they got older, and this happened to be one of them. So, rather than pressing, she finished off her ice cream and took Mom’s guitar, playing a little bit to keep her siblings entertained until they all went back home, together.

**Author's Note:**

> These are all prompts from Tumblr/Discord. On the former, I have the same screenname, so pop on by if you want to see what else is cooking!


End file.
